


Reach

by starrylitme



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa Zero, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Going to Hell, M/M, Mental Instability, Minor Violence, One-Sided Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Despair, Slow Build, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2343716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Komaeda's admiration of Jin Kirigiri is only trumped by his adoration of Hope's Peak Academy and of hope itself. Both are part of the reason Komaeda lets himself get further persuaded to attend HPA as opposed to his original plan of denying the invite outright.</p><p>It had also been far too long since someone's wanted him around.</p><p>(Non-compliant with dr3.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. SHSL Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This verse has some different details than that of the verse in The Good Child (which actually is getting another fic someday) so I wouldn't consider them part of the same story.
> 
> But it is on the same list of "things I didn't plan for to exist in the fanbase".
> 
> It's awkwardly written because this is literally my first time in years trying a multichaptered story again. So I had quite a bit of difficulty. It might not get easier on me. Sigh.

He has to take two trains to get to Hope’s Peak Academy. The trip alone is exhausting and he has only his bare essentials for travel, including a reduced train ticket for the day he really wished he could say he didn’t need and a sturdy shoulder bag to carry his stuff. It might be for that reason that Hope’s Peak stands even grander over him than he imagined, reflecting in his slowly widening, trembling gray-green gaze.

It isn’t even open yet. The only people currently there other than the staff are the elite students moving in their dorms. Komaeda sees a few of them, already in uniform and _shining_ as they make their way across campus, of course not noticing a mite like himself...and of _course_ he feels even more out of place with just the fancy clothes he wore that he _thought_ would be most adequate and his beloved heavy green parka draped over him like a security blanket.

The acceptance letter weighs the heaviest in his bag, and so do the headmaster Jin Kirigiri’s words from earlier on his mind from when Komaeda had chatted with the man over the phone.

 _“Just check out the school,”_ the man insisted even as Komaeda tried to decline. _“Look around a bit. We can talk more on this in person and... I want you to be sure in your decision, Komaeda-kun. I’ll even pay for your trip here personally...”_

Komaeda had agreed but of course refused to be treated. So here he was, HPA looming over him intimidating and incredible, and he rewinds Kirigiri’s statements over and over again in his head as he walks.

_“You’ll love it here, I guarantee it.”_

* * *

“Komaeda-kun?” Komaeda would have thought he imagined it but he sees the man himself, waving at him and making his way to the shivering not-student that had gotten lost in the hallway. “You arrived here today after all.”

“Headmaster,” he bows graciously at what he hopes is just the correct angle. “The school is beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” Kirigiri responds proudly, his smile warm. He’s close enough for Komaeda to see his face a bit clearer and... He looks as young as the pictures on the website. But more... _open_. Welcoming. Komaeda nods in agreement, sheepish. “I’m glad you could make it. Shall we talk more in my office?”

“Y...Yes.” It’s a miracle he doesn’t trip over his words. “Thank you for inviting me here, Headmaster Kirigiri.”

The man’s smile is still warm, as is the hand he presses delicately to beneath Komaeda’s neck to lead him forward. He chuckles, the sound low and yet Komaeda can hear it better than he can his loud, echoing heartbeat.

* * *

Jin Kirigiri is a persuasive speaker, as Komaeda already knows firsthand. He’s also very spirited in the videos Komaeda watched online of his past speeches and is someone who once he has his mind set on something, perseveres and plows through obstacles.

Komaeda’s admiration of the man is only trumped by his adoration of the school and of hope itself. That admiration, as well as the aforementioned adoration, is part of the reason Komaeda let himself get talked into touring the campus and be sat down for a more in-depth conversation rather than his original plan of declining his invitation outright.

“Komaeda-kun,” Jin Kirigiri, now seated in his desk and far more intimidating than before. Especially compared to just hearing his voice over the phone. Komaeda adjusts his seating in the armchair, and even though Headmaster Kirigiri smiles at him receptively, he remains alert. “Do you still plan on refusing your invite?”

“Yes, sir.” His voice trembles a bit and he shallows. The headmaster frowns, clasping his hands together, and Komaeda sinks in fine leather. “I’m honored, truly, but as I’ve said before, I don’t feel like Hope’s Peak...deserves me.”

“Deserves? When you won the lottery? The results certainly weren’t _rigged_ , Komaeda-kun, and you had gotten your invitation without any trouble.”

 _Without any trouble?_ “Mm... I wouldn’t say that, actually...” But before the headmaster could question that slip, Komaeda quickly continued. “With all due respect, headmaster... Luck isn’t what I’d consider a talent. If it is... It’s honestly not a good one. It has nothing to do with your merits as a person. And it wouldn’t exactly shape you into a better person either. You could be one of the most consistently worthless, insignificant little creatures on the planet and have good luck unaffected by all of that.”

Ah, he’s already started rambling—he can see Kirigiri’s expression change and there’s anxiety flaring up in his gut. Komaeda knows the looks people gives him when he talks too much and for too long, he’s always known, but the idea of _this man_ giving him the same look—it’s... He can’t stop talking.

“In fact, wouldn’t it be an _obstacle_ to those with talent in some situations?  An unlucky event can undo months, sometimes years of hard work and make all that effort void. For example an unexpected car accident can ruin an athlete’s physique; poor weather can destroy what would have been the dream building if the construction work is unprepared... These events can either set back if not ruin the paths of others. Even though one can take precautions, something unaccounted for can still...happen...” Komaeda trails off. _Then again, if someone gives up simply because of something as fickle as poor luck—they must not be very driven to begin with. Someone like me shouldn’t even be able to make a difference. But I don’t belong here. I..._ “The thing is, Headmaster Kirigiri... I don’t believe something as lousy and erratic as luck would ever _deserve_ to be called a talent.”

He ended it there, tightening his hands into his fists on his lap. His head is dropped, gaze low on the sleek wood of the headmaster’s desk. He can tell Kirigiri has his hands clasped together—though what his gaze might be saying, he doesn’t know. He can’t even bring himself to look...

“You know it’s odd,” Kirigiri remarks suddenly, his voice nonchalant. “I believe many of the same things you do, Komaeda-kun.”

Komaeda perks up immediately. Jin Kirigiri’s _smiling_ at him—amused and intrigued. “It’s funny,” he says. “We just look at the same things from a different perspective.”

_Ah...huh? What is this...?_

“You’re absolutely correct on many accounts, Komaeda-kun. There are times where even the most incredible of talents and hard work end up surpassed by luck.” The headmaster straightens himself, his eyes closing as he explains before flickering right back open to meet Komaeda’s own. _What is this—_ “Is that not why we place such a value on it...and fret over it as well? More to that, though, is luck truly as unpredictable as it seems? Could our observations be hindered by personal bias?”

_What is this? What is this what is this **what is**_ **this** _—_

“Luck would be things happening in spite of an unfavorable probability—perhaps they in fact happen because that possibility still exists. As easy as it is to write off unlikely events as flukes, there must still be some reasoning behind why certain individuals get their way more often than others of the same merits and capabilities.” Kirigiri’s smile grows, and he seems confident—the driven man that Komaeda already knows him to be. “Komaeda-kun, seeing as you won the lottery; I’d like you to answer me a question.”

“Y...Yes?” _Ah...what? What?_ “W-What is it?”

“How often do you find a situation going your way regardless of every other possible factor?” Kirigiri asks this question, calm yet very much eager for whatever his answer may be. “If— _when_ such a thing happens, Komaeda-kun... Do you really consider every instance a fluke and nothing more?”

_..._

_A... **fluke**...?_

_... **No**..._ no _..._

 _..._ “ _No_ , Headmaster Kirigiri. I don’t.”

“Then what _would_ you call it? Fate?”

“I don’t know... I really don’t.”

“See, it’s a mystery, isn’t it?” Kirigiri laughed, relaxing in his seat and _satisfied_ with that response even as Komaeda’s left still and silent. “It’s something I’d like to figure out— _luck_... It’s why the school runs the lottery each year. Admittedly, the rest of the board dismisses this idea quite a bit, but I’m positive there’s something there. Somewhere out there, there’s someone with luck powerful enough to be _befitting_ of the word ‘talent’.”

“...”

“Komaeda-kun, I won’t force you to attend this school if you truly don’t want to, but...” Here, the man is more direct, gentler as he addresses him. “If you can help me further this research, I’ll really appreciate it. What’s your ultimate answer?”

_I..._

“...my medical situation...” Komaeda practically mumbled, and Kirigiri blinked once in surprise before simply waving it off.

“We have full-time medical doctors and staff on campus, Komaeda-kun. But,” eagerness flickered within his gaze. “Does that mean you’re considering it?”

Komaeda shrugs, and tentatively glances up at him. Kirigiri’s grin grows broad and bright, and he stands to extend his hand for a welcoming shake.

“We’ll appreciate having you, in that case.”

Somehow, Komaeda moves on his own, standing, smiling, and placing his hand within the headmaster’s. Kirigiri squeezes his hand while shaking it, the feel of it warm and encompassing.

“SHSL Lucky,” Kirigiri says it with pride. “I’ll look forward to seeing more of you.”

“Y...” His face feels hot, his eyes are wide, and yet, his voice comes out steady despite the initial slip. For some reason, he can’t even stop smiling. “ _Yes_.”

The feeling remains, even when Komaeda shyly drops his gaze after Jin Kirigiri pulls his hand away.

“In that case, we still have a lot to talk about, don’t we?” The question does somewhat snap Komaeda out of his daze, and when he looks back up... Headmaster Kirigiri’s still smiling encouragingly, and the expression has Komaeda hold his twitching, warm hand to his chest up against his racing heartbeat. “If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask them, Komaeda-kun.”

Komaeda nods, and this time his voice really doesn’t slip in spite of everything. “Yes.”

* * *

When Komaeda gets home, the first thing he does is inform his parents of the news.

“There isn’t much to worry about in terms of arrangements,” he says. “Even though my acceptance is so late compared to other SHSL Luckies, Headmaster Kirigiri led me through the steps. He even told me that I don’t have to worry about housing because it’s already free and promised to the elite students. They even have full-time doctors on hand in case something happens. That’s good, isn’t it? I really _shouldn’t_ be living alone and considering my condition... It’s for the best, I think.”

_It’s really lucky. Considering everything._

Komaeda frowns though, folding his arms on the table. It’s silent save for his voice, and his mother and father smile all the same. Komaeda looks back, unable to return the sentiment unlike the sheepish yet cheery child that his mother is holding while his father ruffles his light brown hair.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen to this house, but... I’ll figure something out... I’ll pay for storage if I have to...” It’s concerning thinking about that, though. If they could, his parents would tell him not to worry. But they couldn’t, of course. The dead didn’t have a voice, and pictures certainly couldn’t speak either.

_I’ll...figure something out._

“Hope’s Peak is lovely though, I wish you two could have toured the campus with me. Mother would have loved the landscaping... Father would have loved the look of the beautiful buildings... And with the free expenses, neither of you wouldn’t have had to worry about money at all. Doesn’t that sound too good to be true?” Komaeda laughs as an answer to his own question. “It’s really fortunate for me to have been enrolled. Even though I don’t deserve it by any means, I think you two would still have been so happy...”

_Mother would have held me... Father would have ruffled my hair..._

His gaze falls on the child again for just a moment, before returning to his parents. Yes, he knows they would have been proud. Happy. His father would have shaken Jin Kirigiri’s hand as his mother gleefully squeezed his shoulders. Jin Kirigiri would have told them not to worry, that he’ll be taken care of, that _he’s_ happy to have him. His parents would have handed him over, no worries whatsoever. Headmaster Kirigiri would have waved them off cheerfully, and just like before, he would have led him away...a warm, gentle hand on his shoulder... _not unlike_...

“I think...” His eyes close and his head falls into his folded arms. “I _think_ I’ll be fine.”

* * *

But that didn’t stop him from wondering.  _How long had it been?_

_“SHSL Lucky... I’ll look forward to seeing more of you.”_

“SHSL... Lucky. I am SHSL Lucky.” Headmaster Kirigiri’s warm smile, saying he wanted to see him again. How long had it been since someone said something like that to him? What bad luck was he supposed to expect from being told such? “I am SHSL Lucky.”

He didn’t belong at HPA. Yet here he was in the uniform, which fitted to his form like it was somehow meant for him in spite of everything. It _felt_ right—but staring at his wide-eyed, trembling reflection, it couldn’t have looked more wrong. “I am SHSL Lucky.”

Jin Kirigiri said he wanted to see him again. Jin Kirigiri wanted him _there_ , at that grand, incredible school. Jin Kirigiri’s warm hand—wrapped around his own and squeezing as he _welcomed_ him. “I... I am...”

He was still shaking. His heart was pounding against his chest, face flushed as he adjusted his tie.  He thought more—on Jin Kirigiri, on HPA, how he was _wanted_ —and those thoughts made him giddy. _Excited_. It’s been so long since he felt this _happy_.

“I am ‘Luck’.” Komaeda says it brightly, with such conviction that even he can believe it. “Luck. I am _SHSL Lucky_.”

_I will most likely never be this happy again._

And yet. He couldn’t help but _hope_.

_That’s what that feeling was right? When I was with Headmaster Kirigiri? It was hope! Of course it was—it was definitely..._ **Definitely** _—_

Komaeda took a deep breath, announcing it one last time. “I am SHSL Lucky.”

_I am ‘Luck’._

He definitely could hope for the best.

 


	2. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alas, we are still in the peaceful prologue stages. But I think things are coming along. Maybe. Little at a time. This chapter is real quick though, I guess.
> 
> I'm already getting fidgety though. Mmgh. xmx

Komaeda knows Jin Kirigiri’s opening speech to upcoming elite classes by heart with how often he watched those videos. This speech isn’t different in any significant sense, but Komaeda’s heart beats like it’s the first time he’s hearing the words even as his lips move to mutely mirror Headmaster Kirigiri’s.

Perhaps he means to imprint these words deeply onto his very being—about being pinnacles of potential, gateways to the future, and how they could all very well bear the hope of humanity with their skills and capabilities... Even though Komaeda highly doubts these words could ever apply to himself, who had never been born for the task of importance. Everyone else, he doesn’t doubt for a minute.

But as for him... Even if he writes these words down a thousand times, no matter how deeply he has them memorized...he’s going to forget them all someday if he doesn’t die first. For him, not one of these words apply and they shouldn’t really matter, either, but...

_But..._

Komaeda applauds all the same when Headmaster Kirigiri finishes, smile wide on his face, and he earnestly means every single clap.

* * *

Komaeda also researches the 77th batch near obsessively.

Each bit of information impresses him, even if the subjects themselves normally wouldn’t. He even looks at some of the achievements of his incoming classmates thoroughly, from examining recordings of different performances of the gymnast and dancer to appreciating the arts of the photographer and cook— _chef_? Either way, the latter did make his stomach growl a bit.

By the end of his exploration, Komaeda feels like he could write an essay on them— _and_ that he had looked up enough that he was satisfied with his new knowledge. There was, actually, one student whose name and title grabbed his attention more than the others, despite how fascinating those others were.

_Yasuke Matsuda—SHSL Neurologist._

This was someone Komaeda had actually known about first-hand, having read his published articles in medical magazines before. A prodigy, not even in his twenties and yet already well-established in one of the most difficult medical fields to date. To call it impressive would be an understatement.

To think someone so renowned for their abilities in treating the human brain would be in _his_ class...

Komaeda nearly shuddered with glee— _how **lucky**_.

* * *

The thing is, despite his research, Komaeda really doesn’t plan on approaching any of his classmates. Not even Matsuda, though he does hesitate a _great_ deal on that one.

He’s not pushing his luck though—he had done for in one of his previous schools and even though Komaeda’s gotten over his regrets; those memories still hold a heavy presence in his heart. Yes, he’s long decided it’s for the best that he not initially approach anyone unless the situation makes the action necessary.

Or unless he’s approached first. Whichever the circumstances end up being.

Somehow, when they’re all at the dinner celebrating the arrival of the 77th batch, Komaeda finds he slips through the crowd unacknowledged rather easily. Granted his classmates are all engrossed in each other if not outright ignoring everyone else, but it’s still not too bad. Komaeda feels a bit uncomfortable though, and itchy in his new suit. He’s so use to messing with his own attire, but this one he had to get tailored professionally...

“You look nervous, Komaeda-kun.”

Komaeda nearly jumps, and immediately there’s an apology for startling him. Komaeda turns quickly, words falling out in a hurry, “No, it’s alright...”

Headmaster Kirigiri’s warm smile stops him dead in his tracks. He falters, still maintaining an uneasy smile, and formally greets, “Headmaster. Thank you for letting me attend.”

The headmaster immediately laughs, Komaeda blushing and lowering his head even more, and then there’s a hand on his shoulder squeezing. “I really shouldn’t be the one getting thanks when _you_ won the lottery, Komaeda-kun. But as I said, I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am, too,” he means it, despite everything.

Headmaster Kirigiri’s hand draws away, but his expression reads pleased so the small smile remains on Komaeda’s face. A twinge of something like nostalgia pulls at him, though, and he really doesn’t know what he can do about _that_ , so...

“Komaeda-kun, shouldn’t you speak to your fellow classmates?” Jin Kirigiri asks, encouraging yet a little concerned. Komaeda does perk up. “You might pick up a few things, conversing with them...”

_You should try to be more sociable, Komaeda-kun. Shouldn’t you have more friends at your age? Won’t you talk to others? Won’t you talk to_ me _?_

**_...That’s not what he’s saying though... Stop being so ridiculous._ **

“I’m a bit nervous,” Komaeda confesses, smile a bit shyer. “I admire a lot of them so I don’t want to accidentally intrude if they’re having a moment... I’ve, ah, never been very good at talking to others either...”

Headmaster Kirigiri looks at him sympathetically and _that_ was...actually. Komaeda decidedly _didn’t_ like that look very much.

“But I suppose I _should_ try,” he babbles on, his attempt to save face almost shamefully transparent. “I mean, it’s not like I’m facing death or anything...with most of them...”

Somehow though, the headmaster manages to smile. “Do be careful, Komaeda-kun.”

Komaeda blinks up at him, meek and mute—taking in that smile on the man’s face that seemed to be filled with the kind of faith that was never finite. _Hope_ , he’d like to call it, which certainly explained why despite his reservations—it just made him so _happy_ to be on the receiving end. He finally affirms he will with a slighter, far less significant dreamy smile of his own.

So the headmaster urges him off and he returns to the crowd, but still can’t help looking back despite everything. The first time, Headmaster Kirigiri’s smile of reassurance remained as their eyes met—and did he mouth something like ‘good luck’?

_SHSL Lucky..._

After a couple more times where Komaeda looked back and forth between him and everyone else, eventually, Headmaster Kirigiri stopped meeting his constant glances. The headmaster had struck up a conversation with another adult—distracted by someone else. One of the parental guardians?

...Strange. There was a twinge in his chest that felt a little sad at that sight. Longing? _How childish._

Jin Kirigiri didn’t notice him again for the remainder of the dinner, even as Komaeda’s adoring eyes kept wandering back to him like a starved dog following the first generous soul to give it scraps.

Needless to say, this was a bit of a detriment to his already poor ability at talking with the other students. But somehow, Komaeda couldn’t find it to be more disappointed with his behavior than he already was. Even as poor Koizumi-san scolded him for getting distracted so easily. Komaeda could only meekly apologize and retreat to spare her from any more of his beyond substandard company.

His eyes did land on someone who demanded his full attention for the time being—Yasuke Matsuda, separated from the group and looking almost irritated. Komaeda gulped, considered it, and when Matsuda’s gaze—which by some stroke of luck happened to wander over and capture his blatant, shameful staring, well...

Matsuda scowled at _him_ instead so yes, Komaeda decided it was ultimately going to go nowhere.

This was going nowhere. At least the lemonade was sweet. He should get refills.

So with that, he gave up, brushed off the failed experiences, and... Of course, went right back to semi-watching Jin Kirigiri chat amicably with others with nary a problem.

Komaeda did manage to smile when Kirigiri laughed at something another man said, but somehow, a sigh escaped his lips for whatever reason at the sight as well.

* * *

There’s still so much to do. He needs to arrange his bottles, double-check his ironed uniform, mark his map of HPA while consulting his schedule, figure out if he needs to do more packing—he can’t afford to forget something important...

Komaeda’s mind is buzzing so much that he almost missed the door that’s his. He catches himself before he passes it though, and stands before it. The numbers gleam back at him as he inhales to calm his still ticking psyche.

_I should have a list of prescriptions still handy. I need to consult that too. But I mustn’t worry too much... I won’t get anything out of dying before classes even start—not to mention my luck won’t allow it. Yes, yes, my luck won’t allow it at all... I’m not going to die... I just need to get ready for the night. I need to sleep. I need...to open this door. Standing here in the hallway like an idiot isn’t going to..._

 “...Oh.” The voice took him off guard, though Komaeda didn’t jump and instead his gaze immediately went to whomever it was that just spoke. “It’s you.”

_Me...? Oh...oh!_

Matsuda glared at him, eyebrows drawn together and silently demanding answers. Though dumbfounded, a smile makes its way to Komaeda’s face even as the other scowls at such a ridiculous face. “You were acting off at the dinner—don’t think I didn’t catch your staring.”

_Ah..._

“I apologize for that,” Komaeda says brightly, laughing it off even as Matsuda continued to grace him with such a scary look. “I just felt really out of it back there, ah... Ah, _hmm_... You’re Matsuda-kun, yes?”

He didn’t need a confirmation—he knew so well that this was _Matsuda-kun_. Matsuda did confirm anyway though, rather than insult him. Matsuda sure had a lot of patience if he was putting up with him so easily.

“I’m Nagito Komaeda, SHSL Lucky.” Introductions. He couldn’t forget. It was so _rude_ to start calling someone by name when you yourself had yet to given yours. The last thing Komaeda wanted to be with one of his— ** _fellow SHSLs_** —classmates was rude. He was rude enough at the dinner. He should be better here. “I’m impressed. I’ve already heard a lot about you, actually, and I really admire your work...”

“Do you?” Matsuda’s tone was clipped. Cold. Like he didn’t believe him. Perhaps he believed Komaeda was paying mere lip-service? Did he know? Komaeda thought about his diagnosis, thought about Matsuda looking it over...looking over him, analyzing every tick and slip and confirming that yes, he practically reeked of...

_He wouldn’t know so soon though, would he? Matsuda-kun only just got here. Mm. Anyway..._

He needed to continue—thinking too much put his head in such a whirl. He shouldn’t be so rude. “I’ve read some of your articles, actually—your writing skills are superb as well, as expected of someone of your caliber...”

“My girlfriend mostly helped with those.” Matsuda did cut him off there, matter-of-fact enough that Komaeda halted as if it were a teacher correcting him. “I just put down the necessary facts.”

Matsuda snapped that last bit of information, in turn completely shutting down Komaeda who had hit a roadblock in where he was going with all this. _Ah? Why am I even...?_

Then, Matsuda asked, almost snidely, “You know about _her_ , right? My girlfriend.”

_Huh?_ “I...no?” Komaeda felt almost helplessly confused on why Matsuda would assume otherwise. He reiterated, tone a bit more firm as he tried to figure this out. “No, I don’t know who she is.”

“...Really.” Why did he sound so doubtful? Hm.

_Perhaps she’s famous? Maybe, since it’s Matsuda-kun, she’s...?_

“Is she a doctor too?” _Except_ —Komaeda would have most likely known this woman’s name and identity in that case. The two of them would have worked together, probably, unless she was in a radically different field but _how else would Matsuda know her much less court her if they didn’t_...

Matsuda himself snorted, and then there was a click. He had popped open his door, the one to his dorm that was beside Komaeda’s own, and turned to the entrance, muttering, “ _That’s_ a horrifying thought...”

_Not a doctor then? Maybe a more typical celebrity then. An actress? A model? Interesting. But I wouldn’t know for sure. I’ve never been interested in such things... But to think someone not in the field would write Matsuda-kun’s articles... Do I really not know? I..._

“Matsuda-kun...?” Matsuda didn’t give him a second glance, heading inside his room and shutting the door behind him. Ignoring him. Leaving him alone in the hallway and somewhat at a loss from the situation.

It’s not that big of a surprise. Not really. “...Have a nice night, I suppose.”

_At least..._ Komaeda couldn’t help but smile, turning back to his own door and making his way inside. _This will surely be interesting._


	3. Probability and Possibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...think I'm getting more into the swing of things?
> 
> (Changed title and rating. The former because I think it's more fitting, and the latter because I haven't gotten to the porn yet. I feel so weird updating an explicit fic without there being any porn.)

Even though he had been the first one to whom Komaeda explained in detail what the doctor diagnosed, Komaeda really didn’t expect Jin Kirigiri to be the one to accompany him when he gets his scans. But he didn’t expect anyone to accompany him; he certainly didn’t ask to be accompanied in the first place.

The respect the health care faculty gives the man is clear, immediately greeting the headmaster and ducking their head instead of reasonably asking his reason for coming in. Kirigiri returns the greetings politely, of course, and Komaeda sheepishly ducks his head as well when the older man glances towards him.

“Komaeda-kun,” he says, gently, and then carefully asks, “Are you feeling alright?”

"Y...yes."

He was, though not entirely.

When Komaeda told him about his situation, Jin Kirigiri hadn’t said a word. No ‘that must have been rough’ or even ‘I’m so sorry that happened’ when he talked at ease about his parents’ fiery fate when he had been so young. He only mentioned those two things—his parents and his diagnosis, and only in moderate but still decent detail—and all he got as a response was a cool ‘I see’ when he was finished. Then Jin Kirigiri explained what he needed to know about future treatment.

Komaeda appreciated that. That’s not to say he didn’t appreciate this tender gesture, _of course_ , he’s not _ungrateful_ , after all. It’s just new and he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. It makes him happy, yes,  _but at the same time..._

“You really shouldn’t have to go through something like this alone, Komaeda-kun.” Headmaster Kirigiri says this in a tone that's firm, but still kind, as if he could see the protest written all over Komaeda's face despite the SHSL Lucky trying his best to retain his usual small, soft smile. Said smile unsurprisingly falters, but Headmaster Kirigiri’s widens a bit. It’s meant to be comforting, he knows.

Komaeda’s heard something like this before—carefully crafted and blandly expected of from such a figure. But coming from Kirigiri, he can’t help but feel even more uneasy. The doctor—the one who gave him the news—had immediately suggested he attend a care home, especially in regards to his...current living situation. In fact, the kind man even offered to make the arrangements, though he didn’t. Because Komaeda requested time to think about it. Which had been surprising. Komaeda didn’t think he’d be heard when his voice had been so quiet.

In that ‘requested time’, Komaeda’s mind was blank, world empty, future vast and white before him and he almost forgot to check his mailbox. He still wasn’t all there when checking it, shoving his hand inside blindly to grab the usual spam mail and advertisements, and then...

Then his fingers had closed around a fine envelope and suddenly...Fingers closed around his shoulder. Squeezing it. Taking him out of the flashback with a jerk.

“Komaeda-kun,” Jin Kirigiri asks, concern clear in his tone and expression as Komaeda blankly glanced up at him. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Oh... Yes...” Komaeda’s eyes dropped, and his arms went to fold over himself. “Headmaster Kirigiri, you’re...so kind.”

“Oh, Komaeda-kun. It’s nothing.” He gives his shoulder another squeeze, then pulls back and... Komaeda doesn’t flinch when Headmaster Kirigiri ruffles his hair. He just slowly raises his eyes back up, and swallows as Jin Kirigiri gives him a warm, reassuring smile. The same one at the dinner. “It’s not a problem at all.”

* * *

It goes by so easily after that. Too easily, perhaps.

The doctors give him the necessary prescriptions for symptoms along with a list of medication he shouldn’t be taking due to future treatment. Headmaster Kirigiri has to leave early due to a meeting, but he tells Komaeda to take care of himself, don’t hesitate to ask for help if he needs it, and Komaeda spends that night dumping out pill bottles.

“So kind,” he muses and with each _plop_ of a pill into the water, he hums. “Headmaster Kirigiri is _so_ kind.”

He flushes the toilet afterwards and considers it _very_ fortunate that it doesn’t flood.

* * *

Komaeda doesn’t sleep easy and he decides against taking medication—though he might have accidentally squandered his would-be sleeping pills earlier—so instead he spends a lot of time thinking, perhaps in an attempt to exhaust himself into slumber.

Komaeda thinks about a lot of things when he doesn’t have something to make himself black out, and with the experiences awaiting him at the academy... He’s almost jittery with excitement.

It’s a first class view, he thinks, being able to watch his classmates and the rest of the elite flourish firsthand. His luck might provide an obstacle, which he does worry over, but... Perhaps maybe it could also...

_Make their hope stronger... Yes, I won’t make a difference to people like that. What could a mere ant do to thwart a higher being such as a human? All I can do is provide foundation for them to step on. I don’t belong here to walk **with** them, of course not, I belong here to be..._

Komaeda laughed, voice harsh and ugly as his entire body quaked. It hurt his throat, sometimes, but he couldn’t stop. Not with his fingers twitching, his blood singing, and time pushing forward with life’s unforgiving grip around his heels as he’s dragged along. Others just walk, looking ahead with bright presences that Komaeda has to cover his eyes and...laugh and laugh and laugh and—

His palms dig into his eyes until it _hurts_ and eventually the world is entirely dark save for his squeaking, unpleasant voice.

Komaeda tires himself out, of course, though he still giggles between panting, and he glances off to the wall his bed is beside and places his fingers to the wall. Nothing responds.

Matsuda couldn’t hear him making such disgusting noises. That was good.

This was good.

He drifts.

* * *

It’s strange. That night rather than the complete darkness he expected, he ended up dreaming of a hand wrapping around his, pulling him up...

Komaeda ends up waking, hand outstretched to the ceiling and world numb.

“Ah... huh? Huh? _Huh_?” His fingers flex, still reaching, and it takes far too long for his hand to fall back down over his chest. He blinks at the ceiling, only vaguely remembering, and he lets out a heavy sigh.

It’s strange. Really strange. But he doesn’t want to think too much on it and instead pushes himself back into sleep.

* * *

Class is another day like the last with the introductions of lessons. Komaeda scribbles his notes down diligently, watches his classmates answer questions with bright, confident eyes, and takes mild notice of the assistant teacher—assistant _researcher_ , jolting down some things as well.

Even though the general core classes are provided to each student equally, it’s no surprise that certain classmates take to some subjects far easier and more enthusiastically than their colleagues. The researchers—and Komaeda—note this with a special intrigue.

The school is designed for these special students and the observations, with elective classes provided based on talent and skill set. It’s the best environment for the students to grow in, of course, and for the research and observations to come that much more fluidly. Komaeda falls in love more and more with each passing moment.

The only anomaly, sadly but not unexpectedly, is himself. It’s clear the staff isn’t quite sure what to do with the elite level Lucky just yet. He’s given the core classes, of course, but in terms of electives based on his talent...

He... _Well_... The time for elective classes usually goes to him getting sent to the doctor for his treatment. Or he’s sent off on some errand. Sometimes, he overhears the contemplation of just shoving him in a random elective class to just sit back to observe what change the wild card would make to a certain hand.

Perhaps later, he’s sure, but for now, life drags on as indifferently as ever and he can only sigh after.

* * *

“Oh, Komaeda-kun. _Again_?” Yes, again, but Komaeda greeted him cheerily and without a care all the same, and Headmaster Kirigiri sighed before returning his smile. “They really should stop sending you on these errand runs. You’re going to fall behind in your classes.”

“I’m doing well, actually, so I wouldn’t worry about that.” Komaeda hands him the files he was assigned to deliver. The headmaster takes them, thanks him as usual, and Komaeda prepares to head back as always when...

“I’ve heard, actually. You’ve been doing very well in mathematics, Komaeda-kun.” The elite student stops in his tracks, turning back to the older man who was organizing his papers accordingly. “Do you have a knack for that subject?”

“It’s just using the right formulas and the steps. Though... I do a lot of the time get mixed up or forget, so I end up doing a lot of guesswork. I just get, ah...ha- _ha_... Lucky.” Kirigiri perked up for a moment and hummed. Komaeda’s smile twitched and for some reason... That gleam he might have seen in Headmaster Kirigiri’s eye... It had been similar to how he’d seen some of the researchers look at the elite students. “Headmaster Kirigiri, I... I’ll get going...”

“Komaeda-kun,” he was stopped just as he reached the door, and it didn’t sound like he was in trouble or anything even if the call of his name was made to halt his movements. Jin Kirigiri maintained a casual, informative tone as he continued, “Several teachers have contacted me about your grades. When it’s multiple choice-based, you do very well... And yet when you’re called to explain a problem, you sometimes get mixed up. Not often, of course, but compared to how you otherwise do...”

“They suspect I’m cheating on my assignments, aren’t they?” He’s faced these accusations before, especially when...

“You do remarkably well even when you had to miss a class due to treatment. They’re quite suspicious.” His delivery is all matter-of-fact, not judging or suspecting, and Komaeda doesn’t have to worry. “I’m not accusing you. But I do find it interesting...”

“Really, it’s always been this way,” Komaeda says like he’s discussing the weather. “I’ve never thought much of it, but it at least made my parents happy. And my teachers—they didn’t have to worry too much about me if I just did well... But it’s not the same in Hope’s Peak, is it? I don’t know what to tell you, though. I don’t cheat. It just happens. That’s it.”

Headmaster Kirigiri rubs at his chin in a thoughtful gesture. His eyes sweep over him a few time, at this soft-spoken yet still straight-forward student of his and Komaeda maintains an air of serenity. Then he remarks, “Despite a few factors, it seems SHSL Lucky as your title is quite fitting. _Interesting_ —and you really don’t see luck as a talent?”

Komaeda shook his head.

“Hm.” The headmaster does look a bit dismayed at that, but he quickly smiles again, pushing on and still so secure. “I might respectfully disagree with you, Komaeda-kun. And if it isn’t too much, I might dare to suggest you’re being a bit too hard on yourself and your luck.”

Komaeda blinks, smile stiffening. _Ah...huh? Huh, huh, huh? That’s..._ “That’s... A _ha_...ha- _ha_... That’s a bit embarrassing to hear. I’ve always been a bit pessimistic, true, but still... You’re embarrassing me, headmaster, saying something like that.”

“That isn’t my intention.” It’s not like Komaeda thinks it is. But before Komaeda can say so, Jin Kirigiri kindly offers, “You can leave now, if you want.”

He could. If he wanted to. If he really wanted to—he could get back to his class, or sleep in the nurse’s room. He’d been having trouble sleeping lately, hadn’t he? He needs to take better care of himself. Right. That’s right.

...Still.

“Do you have something else you want to say to me, Headmaster Kirigiri? I’m all ears.”

That smile widened, and Komaeda relaxed, just a little.

“Have a seat, Komaeda-kun.”

It’s far too easy.

* * *

Though Jin Kirigiri allows silence in the time it takes Komaeda to settle back into that leather seat, the intrigue and curiosity in the air is palpable. He watches him, carefully and patiently, like the researchers watch his classmates; so Komaeda doesn’t doubt that—even if his face isn’t heavily lined, even though the man is considerably young for his job—this is definitely _Hope’s Peak Academy’s_ Headmaster.

“Headmaster?” He asks as formally as he can, keeping his head low and his expression meek. “So, what is it you wanted to discuss with me?”

“Don’t be so stiff, Komaeda-kun. It’s fine to relax.” Kirigiri laughs a bit first. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Komaeda settles a bit better, nodding quickly, and tries not to choke out a bit of laughter. The noise that escapes his throat is mercifully ignored but he sees Headmaster Kirigiri’s expression soften just a bit. Somehow...that makes unease swirl around in his stomach, even though he should be calming down right about now. His cheeks are starting to burn. Maybe he’s sicker than he thought.

“Ah...um.” It sounds juvenile, and Komaeda really is just making noise so there isn’t so much dead, awkward silence. It’s only a little better. Only a little. “Headmaster Kirigiri...”

“Komaeda-kun, I’m aware of your situation,” Headmaster Kirigiri begins, folding his hands and Komaeda’s stomach drops when he realizes the direction this conversation is heading. “And I don’t know if I’ve made it clear, but you have my sincerest condolences for your circumstances.”

_I know. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. The only reason why you know is because it was necessary for you to know, not because I wanted to be pitied for it. I don’t want to talk about this. Not so soon._

“If you ever feel like discussing that, then my door is always open or you can speak to the guidance counselor. They’ll be compassionate, if you just need to talk to someone about anything.” _It’s fine—don’t worry—I don’t want...don’t need..._ “Do you feel uncomfortable talking about such things, Komaeda-kun?”

“...Yes.” _I don’t like the looks I get. I can understand it when people get annoyed or irritated—but I just don’t like being pitied._ “I don’t care for such ‘compassion’.”

... _Was that the wrong way to word it?_

“So, then... Is it alright if I asked you a question related to your parents? Or to your illness?” He’s careful when he asks, like he’s threading a thin line. Komaeda considers, briefly, if he should alleviate such concerns—and he really should. Headmaster Kirigiri is kind. It’s no good to make kind people needlessly worry.

“If you’re going to ask me what I’m expecting...” Komaeda begins, in a mirroring tone of voice to the older man’s. “Then I’d rather you didn’t, to be honest. But I’ll still answer you if you really want to know.”

“If you’re really uncomfortable,” Headmaster Kirigiri tells him, still all soft and cautious. “You can leave, Komaeda-kun.”

Komaeda’s hands tightened from where they were folded in his lap. “ _But_...?”

“But what?” Jin Kirigiri’s smile wavers appropriately, and Komaeda’s own lips quirk.

“You want me to stay, right, headmaster?”

_This is so new for me. But that I’d have to endure this..._

Kirigiri, still so aptly, doesn’t answer. For a moment though, he seems almost weary—it’s no surprise, and it occurred to Komaeda the second the words left his lips just how inappropriate that question really was.

Saying no would be impolite, of course. It could be taken the wrong way so easily and Headmaster Kirigiri wouldn’t want to offend his student, no matter how much the impertinent student deserved it.

Along the same lines, saying yes would be...

**_...would be..._ **

“I’ll stay,” Komaeda decides, smiling brightly and Headmaster Kirigiri in response...

“No, Komaeda-kun.”

...says that?

“I have a meeting soon, it slipped my mind,” the headmaster certainly looks apologetic, and also still weary. He still smiles at Komaeda, reaching out and offering his hand to shake. “I’m truly sorry. We’ll have to continue this conversation some other time. You need to head to the medical facilities after class, don’t you? Why don’t you study for your next exam between now and then? I’m sure you’ll do well, Komaeda-kun.”

“I... Sure, um. Thank you?” Komaeda does take his hand, mind in a whirl of confusion. “Later, then, headmaster?”

“Yes.” Jin Kirigiri doesn’t hesitate, smile small and certain. He squeezes Komaeda’s hand in his own, giving it a gentle shake. Komaeda feels that burn in his face again and he nods in response. “Is that alright?”

“Of...course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Komaeda laughs though there’s currently nothing about this situation he finds humorous. Just awkward and strange—maybe that’s why. He pulls away, a little too quickly, and wishes his headmaster well regards before he leaves. Soft and polite. “I’ll see you then, Headmaster.”

“Take care of yourself, Komaeda-kun.” No ‘see you’ even though that’s implied. Komaeda closes the door on his way out without another word.

_Take care of yourself._

He can do that. Right.

* * *

He sees Matsuda sometimes in the medical facilities, unsurprisingly. Matsuda sees him, too, but aside from a few choice glares, Komaeda is graciously ignored and overlooked as the SHSL Neurologist goes his own way with a researcher or two trailing after him.

The doctors there—more doctors than actual scientists—treat him as normally as the nurses did at his old schools. With distance, perfectly crafted care, and only asking the necessary questions before prescribing either medicine or gently taking him to treatment.

The real difference is how lavish the facilities are—first-class and elite, top of the chain in terms of hospitals. It’s no surprise, with how much money Hope’s Peak rakes from its reserves. So much—and so much improved in such a considerably little time too because of that.

Komaeda’s happy about that, at least.

“Have a nice day, Komaeda-kun,” the doctors say in a clipped tone, and Komaeda always nods along before heading off. He had to be kept in a bit longer today due to...complications, they said, along with terminology Komaeda could barely follow, but it’s just a mild inconvenience.

A mild inconvenience that allows him to leave at the same time as Matsuda.

“Matsuda-kun, good afternoon!” he greets cheerily, skipping a few steps to catch up with his classmate. “Are you returning to your dorm as well or do you have other things to do?”

“Not today.” There was something about the way he grumbled the words. Something about that had Komaeda think that, for a moment, it probably wasn’t a response to his question. At least. Probably. “ _You’re_ irritatingly chipper for a patient escaping the school’s hospital.”

Oh that was _definitely_ directed towards him. Komaeda felt a little giddy as he responded. “I’m not escaping. I’ll have to return later and I _will_ return later.”

“Stockholm Syndrome already?” A sardonic question. Komaeda wasn’t sure if he should answer seriously or jokingly to such a comment. Matsuda wasn’t looking at him though, he was...reading while talking and walking. Oh.

“You mustn’t do that, Matsuda-kun. It’s dangerous to not be on your guard. What are you going to do if a crazy person approaches you and takes advantage of the fact that you’re leaving yourself vulnerable?” Komaeda asks in a tone that’s more matter-of-fact, almost serious. “It’ll be awful if something like that happens, don’t you think?”

“Someone crazy... Like you?” Matsuda does give him a harsh glance, and Komaeda smiles widely in response.

“What would you do, Matsuda-kun, if I attacked you right now?”

“You’re thin and sickly—I’d overpower you easily. I’d knock you out, probably, and then get help at the medical facility we just left that we’re currently not very far from.” Matsuda shut his book with a huff and then... “You wouldn’t have a weapon because they always do body checks on patients, removing anything that would potentially be a threat to the staff or other patients. So I wouldn’t expect any surprises like a knife in your pocket. What I do expect is an explanation from you for getting me to answer such a stupid question about the most ridiculous scenario I’ve ever heard.”

Komaeda couldn’t help but muffle a giggle behind his hand. “It was just a question, I didn’t _make_ you answer it,” He pointed out, cheeky and cheerful. “I’m impressed you _did_ give me such a satisfactory answer though, and in such detail! Truly befitting of an elite level student, especially of your caliber! Bravo, Matsuda-kun!”

He wondered, briefly, if applause would be appropriate and because Matsuda gave him another ugly look, he ultimately decided against it. So he chattered on instead. “That shows a great deal of consideration even though you thought it was a stupid question. I’m happy you graced me with such sentiment. I certainly feel undeserving of that kind of kindness.”

Matsuda stared at him hard and gave a tight-lipped remark, “Gross.”

Well, of course.

“It _is_ disgusting, isn’t it? Even though you agree, you really are kind. Headmaster Kirigiri is kind, as well... I...” _Because I don’t talk to anyone else... It’s strange. Everyone who’s spoken to me for a long amount of time has been so kind. This kind of good luck... What’s going to happen? What? Will I die soon? The complications today! Maybe this means I might die sooner than the doctors thought and they just sent me home so I’d pass away in my sleep without any worries? Wait...no. That doesn’t sound right. Hmm._ “I... Matsuda-kun?”

When had Matsuda gotten so far ahead? Oh, he must have been trying to get to his dorm faster so that he wouldn’t have to deal with this any longer. Komaeda laughed, self-effacingly, but still hurried to catch up. “I’m sorry for bothering you, Matsuda-kun.”

He gave a bow, to which Matsuda responded like he pricked the back of his neck with needles. Komaeda flinched too, and then Matsuda’s frown deepened. There was something...different about this look though.

_Ah, what is...?_

“You really are off, aren’t you?” he asks and it’s like he doesn’t expect an answer. Komaeda remains silent, regardless. “It’s no wonder you’re in the facilities so often. It’s unfortunate that our SHSL Lucky is someone so messed up.”

 **_Ah_ ** _, that is..._

“True. It truly is unfortunate but... If I can be a good stepping stone, help you and the others shine brighter, then wouldn’t this mild misfortune now be worth the eventual turnabout?” Komaeda bounced right back, bright with laughter, not even caring how cold his reflection must have been in Matsuda’s pale blue gaze. “Don’t you think so, Matsuda-kun? It’ll be worth it, right? For everyone?”

He’s not sure if it was...indulgent to expect Matsuda to give him another satisfactory response. It probably was, and Komaeda _didn’t_ expect it. Matsuda wouldn’t give him an answer anyway, instead turning his eyes elsewhere to the large buildings they were finally so close to. “We’re at the dorm buildings, Komaeda.”

Like the rest of the academy, they loomed grand and beautifully over them, and Komaeda had to pause in his step, even as Matsuda headed straight for the entrance and didn’t miss a beat. Komaeda did eventually catch back up with him, of course, and they walked the rest of the path in silence.

Other classmates did glance in their direction—most likely at Matsuda who still didn’t snap at Komaeda for trailing so close behind him. Komaeda waved back and they went back on their merry little ways, and Matsuda might have glanced back at the SHSL Lucky a few times himself.

In the end though, they arrived to their dorm rooms in an empty corridor once again.

“Matsuda-kun,” Komaeda dared to ask again. “Do you think so?”

“The hell kind of question is that?” Matsuda snapped. “Are you really so idiotic that you’ll think you’ll get something out of nothing from me? I don’t have an answer to that, in case it wasn’t clear.”

“...Oh. I understand. It must sound idiotic in my poor vocabulary, right?”

...There. That weird look on Matsuda’s face again. It’s strange.

_Headmaster Kirigiri doesn’t look at me that way, but it feels like..._

Matsuda shook his head, told him gruffly to just return to his room and sleep off whatever delirium he was going through right now, and shut the door behind him.

_Matsuda-kun is very different from Headmaster Kirigiri. Headmaster Kirigiri is..._

Receptive? Open? It’s not like Matsuda just told him to shut up like other people certainly would. No, but... He was still different. If only Komaeda could figure out what it was.

_Compared to Matsuda-kun, Headmaster Kirigiri is... Is? He’s Headmaster Kirigiri? Mm._

Maybe later, he decided. He had another meeting with Headmaster Kirigiri later after all, so maybe he’d be better at determining the differences after that. Even if he didn’t, it’s not like it was important or anything.

It wasn’t important. Sleep is important. Komaeda needed to sleep, just as Matsuda said.

He needed to sleep. He needed to _take care of himself_.


	4. Gateway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Urgh. I'm so glad I managed to get this out before another year passed. XmX (Though it did still take a little too long for my liking.)
> 
> I want to go back and edit this a bit more, make it prettier or something, but I also want to be diligent with this fic so who knows. I feel closer to figuring out the route I want to take, so it doesn't feel too hard to keep writing yet.
> 
> Ironic, considering this chapter. I feel like the chapter title could have worked well for the first chapter too, but considering what actually happens here, this is good too.
> 
> Enjoy~

It’s really a shame. Even though the food tastes really good— _as expected from Hanamura-kun_ —Komaeda finds he doesn’t have much of an appetite today. Though he’ll finish this meal no matter how long it takes. He’s already halfway through. He’s making progress.

But watching his classmates interact is always more interesting than eating, and Komaeda is _shamefully_ prone to distraction.

Just by watching, there are certain things he notices, like which students are clearly _taken_ with another for example. Souda isn’t exactly subtle when it comes to his infatuation with Sonia, though the SHSL Princess, interestingly enough, seemed to have her own mutual fascination with Tanaka. There are even some students who seem to be close already, as he can clearly see with Koizumi who, outside of Saionji cheerily clinging to her, seems very friendly with Satou.

Then there are also the students who seem content to sitting and eating alone. Like Matsuda, for instance. Matsuda’s always more interested in reading rather than interacting, though he’s still approached, of course. Sure, others don’t talk to him for long, because Matsuda can be quite flippant and rude.

Souda in particular seemed to hold a grudge against him, and when Komaeda curiously asked about that, Matsuda snapped at him too. It wasn’t the same as that time Kuzuryuu voiced a colorful threat in Komaeda’s direction for his constant creepy staring, but it made Komaeda drop his head the same way and meekly apologize. All the same, both of them _did_ have a point—Komaeda really _shouldn’t_ ask questions about things that have nothing to do with him and he really _should_ be careful when watching others. Others get unsettled. They might get the wrong idea. They _would_ get the wrong idea if Komaeda can’t check himself carefully.

Komaeda doesn’t want others getting the wrong idea about him—especially not when it might mislead them. _No_ , he’d like to avoid that as much as possible.

So he avoids his classmates too, though certainly not because he doesn’t want to talk to them—he _does_ , but it’s too dangerous to want things. He isn’t worthy and it’s **dangerous**. He doesn’t want anything to happen far more than he wants anything at all.

It’s safer that way, so much safer.

... _But_. He still doesn’t like being alone very much. He doesn’t like it much at _all_.

* * *

This is, shamefully, why he looks so forward to his meeting with Jin Kirigiri.

Jin Kirigiri always smiles at him even if he’s tired, _always_ like he’s happy to see him. Komaeda, in all his care and caution, returns the sentiment. Far more than he should be allowed to. He can’t help it, and he scolds himself for it in every chipper step it takes to get to the headmaster’s office.

He also imagines of his parents scolding him the same way. They’re kinder than he himself is, of course, but just as firm as they remind him, _it’s really **dangerous**._

Still, things happen.

_But such things can’t be helped, can they? Keep your head up._ His parents retained that kind of attitude, and he followed it dutifully. _Keep your head up—nothing can be done about it. Things will get better._

_Still_ , he doesn’t want _anything_ to happen. But such things can’t be helped. He’ll avoid what’s possible, step over what isn’t. But he still doesn’t want anything to happen.

He tells himself that, over and over again until his cheer dwindles down into calm and he finds himself finally at Headmaster Kirigiri’s door.

_It’s dangerous, don’t..._ He raps the back of his fist against the door, swallowing and inhaling.

“Come in,” Headmaster Kirigiri’s yell is mostly muffled, and Komaeda steels himself before he opens the door. The man’s working studiously as always, but signs his last paper and puts it off to the side before noting his student’s arrival. He smiles _as always_ , warm and welcoming. “Komaeda-kun, I’m glad you could make it.”

Every thread Komaeda has tying himself down is snipped with each word and elation bubbles up in his chest as he beams, his own smile wide and eyes sparkling.

“Headmaster,” he greets, bright with delight as he closes the door behind him. “Shall we get started, then?”

* * *

“Komaeda-kun, if it’s not too much, I wanted to try a small experiment in our meeting today. Normally I’d ask one of the researchers here, but... This is something I think I’d like to see for myself.” There’s eagerness to the words and his expression, an eagerness that almost sends shivers up his spine. If he had to put a word to it, he’d call it excitement.

Though it is a bit...different than the bubbly excitement he’s prone to when Headmaster Kirigiri smiles at him. Headmaster Kirigiri _is_ smiling at him, true, but there’s that spark in his eye again. It really is a strange look, he thinks, and it’s also one that, beforehand Komaeda was actually _unaccustomed_ to, _unfamiliar_ with—had never been on the directly receiving end of and...

He doesn’t understand it at first, but still thinks of the brightness of the other elite students, _compares_ it to the shameful starry-eyed gazing he can’t help but stare at them with... _How pleased the researchers look when they tear through obstacles with their incredible talent..._

**_Talent._** Komaeda remembers and suddenly it makes sense _why_ he didn’t understand it. _Headmaster Kirigiri thinks that luck is a **talent**._

It’s a direct approach, like those projects he witnessed some elite students being given as assignments, how they’re watched carefully as they perform like it’s a stage production—though that example _is_ literal in some cases with theatre-based talents. But all this time for Komaeda, he’d been left alone like a ticking time-bomb—even though it was more like disinterest on the part of the researchers, _but_ Jin Kirigiri wasn’t like that. He saw luck as a talent, and as a talent, he must have felt it was his duty to provide an environment to stimulate it, to see it in action, like what those researchers were supposed to be doing. To see his **talent** in action.  That was the point of the initial lottery, one test that Komaeda passed, and now there’s another, to see if that initial pass wasn’t just a mere fluke. And, _well_...

_That was just..._

“Komaeda-kun?” Headmaster Kirigiri’s smile falls into concern and Komaeda is momentarily distracted by how tight his own hands are fisting over his knees. The skin, already painfully pale, is bone-white now. He wonders for a moment, _would the actual bone show if he peeled off the flesh_ , and loosens his fists. Jin Kirigiri’s next quiet question snaps him completely out of his trance. “Are you uncomfortable with the idea?”

_The idea is_ terrifying _. Why wouldn’t I be?_ And he almost says so, but it’s like he doesn’t _want_ to say so. He just smiles, even if it’s more like his lips are just quirking upwards by mere _instinct_. “If that’s what you want, headmaster.”

“It’s nothing dangerous.” Strange. It sounds like the headmaster is trying to convince him. “It’ll just be a harmless game. Komaeda-kun, have you played mahjong before?”

“ _Hmm_?” What an odd question. But Komaeda responded dutifully all the same. “I know the rules, but it’s been a long time since I played the game myself. My father had friends he played rounds with sometimes, and I was allowed to play a hand with them once or twice...” The memory already drags him back into a daze, little by little. “From what I recall... It wasn’t much of a game. I won rather quickly. I actually prefer playing go, but...”

_Father had been so proud and impressed back then, hadn’t he? Grinning down at him, ruffling his hair as his child stared back up with wide, wide eyes as he said, **“Nagito, you’re really something—”**_

“No. I have nothing against it.” Somehow, he’s stumbled back onto the topic at hand, speaking slowly, with a soft tone of voice that he could barely hear himself. “But can you play mahjong with only two people? Go would be better, I think. I do prefer playing go.”

When had he started looking down? Komaeda raised his eyes humbly, noting his headmaster perking up. _Ah, why...?_

“Unfortunately,” Headmaster Kirigiri sighs, rubbing at the nape of his neck with a self-effacing smile. “I’m actually terrible at go, and at chess for that matter.”

“Aah... _Huh_?” Komaeda blinked a few times at this unusual tidbit of information. “ _Really_?”

“Really,” the man returns seriously, with such a deadpan tone that Komaeda sincerely can’t help but crack a bit of a smile. His headmaster seemed so embarrassed, too, especially as he goes on, “I didn’t stand a chance against my daughter, even as a little girl. She’s always been quite sharp but still...”

But _this_ tidbit of information makes Komaeda immediately perk up himself, eyes bright. “Your daughter?”

“Yes, my... _Oh_.” Jin Kirigiri stills for a moment, like it was something that wasn’t meant to slip out but he quickly regains himself. He laughs again, though is it a little more forced this time? Komaeda would ponder this, but then Headmaster Kirigiri picks up the framed picture on his desk, the one that had been faced away from Komaeda all this time, and turns it around so that he can see its contents. “She’s only a year younger than you now, I believe.”

_A year younger now?_ The little girl pictured was such a small thing, Komaeda thought, small and light enoughto be picked up by the underside of her arms. There was a strange feeling churning in his gut at the sight of her, smiling wide and so _bright_ , and maybe it’s the familiarity of the photo’s subject, but what’s different is...

“You’re faced away from the camera, headmaster.” He can’t help but chuckle, and his fingers twitch though he immediately sternly tells himself not to even think about touching anything, not even the polished wood of the frame. He smiles back up his headmaster. “But I suppose your daughter’s bright smiling face makes up for it, right?”

If Jin Kirigiri agrees, it’s a little unclear though Komaeda would prefer to think favorably of the snort the man lets out. The photograph is pulled away, but the look Headmaster Kirigiri gives his daughter is...a complicated one. Komaeda really can’t help but wonder.

_Come to think of it... He did talk about her as if it had been a while..._

But that’s none of his business now, is it? _No, it really isn’t._ Though his heartbeat’s gotten strangely irregular now— _is that the medication?_ It feels like...excitement—except that it’s an _unpleasant_ variation, one he decidedly doesn’t like at all.

 “Um...” Komaeda clears his throat, tries to brighten his own smile, praying that the miserable attempt doesn’t just make the situation even worse. “You wanted to play mahjong, right, headmaster? Do you really have the pieces necessary in your office?”

To his, perhaps, relief, Headmaster Kirigiri coolly hums, glancing back at him. “I had to borrow it, if you must know, Komaeda-kun. It’s not like I make it a habit playing tabletop games with my students in my office. I’m usually working diligently.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Komaeda’s tone comes across jokingly, but he’s honestly sincere. His throat feels tight, but he keeps his smile. “You’re very diligent, headmaster.”

Jin Kirigiri puts the photo back on his desk, and Komaeda watches as he places it face-down. His heart skips a beat again, irregular and unpleasant, and...

“Thank you, Komaeda-kun.” He’s thanked earnestly, and Headmaster Kirigiri smiles at him with the words as well.

And somehow, that smile immediately puts his heart at ease.

* * *

Setting up the game itself isn’t as tricky as Komaeda thought it’d be, though Jin Kirigiri didn’t beat around the bush when he admitted the game would have to be a little distorted for this kind of arrangement. Perhaps something else would have been better... Maybe he should have gotten two other players?

“No, this is fine,” Komaeda said quietly as he shuffled the pieces, wary of each cold tile. “Besides, I do have to wonder what your coworkers would think about the headmaster wanting to play a tabletop game with a student instead of diligently working.”

“Oh don’t be cheeky, Komaeda-kun,” he muttered and Komaeda shut his mouth and nodded in response. He stacked the tiles mutely, shrinking a bit the longer he felt Headmaster Kirigiri’s stare on him. “If you’re concerned about how long the game will last, I’ll cut it short if I have to. I have no interest in playing a serious round with you, Komaeda-kun. Just until you put up a winning hand or something of the like will be enough.”

_In that case you won’t have to wait long at all._ But Komaeda held his tongue. He was told not to be cheeky after all, so he just made a sound to indicate a neutral response. But he builds up the walls as normal, separating as he was supposed to with the headmaster’s instructions, and still found himself muttering as he flipped over a tile, “Shouldn’t the setup be significantly different from normal? With only two players, the usual flow would be...”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll use dummy hands if that truly bothers you.” It doesn’t really, but when they break and draw from the wall, that’s what they go with, Komaeda drawing for his respective wind as well as the neighbor on his left while Headmaster Kirigiri did the same. The headmaster maintains a calm poker face as he draws, and Komaeda wonders what kind of hand the man ended up dealt with.

_...Well._ He thinks as he looks at his own, each wan tile gleaming smugly back at him. Arranging them accordingly only made them gleam brighter. _It’s going to at least be more varied than this._

Headmaster Kirigiri really is considerate, saving time with his first draw and giving Komaeda an encouraging smile as he discarded a wan tile numbered ‘six’. Komaeda swallowed, drew blindly, and discarded for the neighbor dummy hand, and frowning when he saw it was another wan.

_No... Not just yet..._

But when he drew for himself, the result was the same only with a gleaming ‘seven’ rather than the ‘four’ he thoughtlessly threw out there.  _I could just discard this. I could discard to the point where I’d run out of the suit. But that’s not normal behavior. No one ever squanders their win without reason._

Still, he was tempted. He almost _did_ discard it but when he looked up, saw Jin Kirigiri still smiling kindly, he ultimately just shook his head, instead revealing his hand as he was supposed to. “Tsumo. Pure nine gates. That’s probably game, Headmaster Kirigiri, if we were playing seriously.”

“...Huh?”

It was the first time he saw the headmaster completely off-guard, and he nearly scrambled to stand and stare at the line of tiles in order—all the same suit with all the right numbers. A bit boring, Komaeda honestly thought, that it had to be the wan suit and not one more visually interesting. He would have preferred the sou suit.

But in direct contrast to his dull expression, Headmaster Kirigiri’s face wasn’t like that, he noticed. No, he looked disbelieving, pressing a hand to his forehead, muttering, “I didn’t even think I’d live to see this yakuman. Certainly not in a game I was playing myself.”

Komaeda’s throat felt tight for some reason; worry striking him suddenly and inexplicably. “Headmaster...”

“Komaeda-kun, this isn’t you first time going out with a hand like this, is it?” The question was quick, sharp enough that Komaeda flinched before shaking his hand. Headmaster Kirigiri blinked at this revelation, dropping his hand, and his voice went just a notch softer. “Well, then, I never had a chance from the start against you.”

“Oh... No, you didn’t.” Of course he didn’t, unless Headmaster Kirigiri was SHSL Mahjong Player or something similar. His poor father and his friends didn’t have a chance either, and honestly, Komaeda had felt bad back then because it felt like he was somehow cheating them out of a victory. But father never got upset, just ruffled his hair, laughed, and said that...

 “Your luck...is really something, Komaeda-kun.” Headmaster Kirigiri chuckles a bit, uncaring of the blunt remark as he reaches out and pushes one of the tiles so that it lines up straighter with the others. “It’s something phenomenal, if this is any indication.”

**_Phenomenal?_** Komaeda stared blankly at the tiles. There was nothing to reflect back on their sleek surface, and the painted designs on each face didn’t budge. But Jin Kirigiri’s gaze, bright with discovery and a voice brimming with awe—that. _That_ was something else entirely.

“The researchers ought to be keeping a closer eye on you,” the man notes, and Komaeda could see his reflection in that gaze now. He didn’t have a response to that, his throat felt too tight and this whole experience—to think this all came from one pseudo- _game_ , and it’s not like he crushed his fingers to get that hand—it was almost...dizzying. Suffocating.

_**Disturbing**_ _ **.**_ That was the best word for it. It certainly wasn’t damaging to his health but it did really _bother_ him. It was deeply _disturbing_.

“Komaeda-kun.”

And yet he still didn’t have any trouble snapping to attention when Headmaster Kirigiri addressed him. He still met the man’s gaze, receptive and not the slightest bit reluctant.

“I’ll let you know, thus far, you have surpassed my expectations and the school year’s just begun.” He chuckles again, genial without any of Komaeda’s paranoia and pessimism tainting the sound. Still so pleasant, despite everything, and now his pulse is picking up for an entirely different reason than the discord in the air. “I might have to expect more from you.”

Komaeda weakly smiled, despite himself. “I’ll just disappoint you in that case.”

“We’ll see—but I doubt it.” But he doubts it. He doubts it.

Jin Kirigiri’s returning grin said enough about that little comment. _He doubts it._ Instead he swept the tiles away, starting with Komaeda’s hand first and then the useless dummy hands before finishing with his own. Komaeda didn’t even have time to offer his help, and instead was told, “You’re done here for today, Komaeda-kun. I won’t set up another appointment right now, but if there’s anything you need from me...”

Komaeda was already shaking his head.  Even though he hesitated on standing up for the moment, he carelessly responded all the same, “I really don’t...”

“I have heard that you haven’t been speaking much to your classmates,” Headmaster Kirigiri remarked, tone low and amicable as always. But also coaxing. _Just like..._ “You really should do that, in the very least. I know you have no interest in talking about your situation, and you don’t have to, but I insist you at least get to know your peers.”

_It’s not like I don’t know anything about them. I know about their reputation—how could I not? And I’ve watched them, spoken to Matsuda-kun, so it’s not as if I have no idea what they’re really like. But..._ “I...”

_Even if I want to speak to them and get to know them directly, it’d be so imprudent of me._ But perhaps this situation isn’t the same thing as his school counselor insisting he put himself out there as if the benefit of the risk was worth it when it so rarely was. It’s not as though his classmates were the ordinaries he went to school with that could only get caught up in his luck due to their failings and weaknesses. They had to be stronger than that, _better_ than that. Which is _why_ it was so _imprudent_. But just because that’s what Komaeda believed...

That didn’t mean Headmaster Kirigiri saw it the same way. Headmaster Kirigiri believed luck was a talent after all and if Komaeda kept fighting against that faith, it’d only cause the man trouble. And nothing would be accomplished _for sure_ and that’d be so _boring_ , wouldn’t it?

_It’d be so boring._ “I suppose I can try.”

That brief smile he received was worth the wince.

“Though he’s not the most social, you should at least be more acquainted with Matsuda-kun, considering your situation,” Headmaster Kirigiri suggested airily, stacking and straightening the tiles in their box before closing the lid over it before it could be placed off to the side, to be returned as it was no longer needed. “You might have already seen him a few times in the health facilities, actually, so it wouldn’t be too hard to...”

“Actually,” Komaeda cut in, unable to help himself as he laughed at the irony. “I’ve already spoken with Matsuda-kun a few times. We’re ah, neighbors after all. But I wouldn’t dare call us friends. At best, he tolerates me—but most of the time, he’s annoyed.”

“Really now?” the headmaster asked, raising an eyebrow and...oh. Was that the same awe from earlier? But there also seemed to be some amusement in that look, and Komaeda wondered why even as he smiled in response. “You don’t seem bothered though, Komaeda-kun.”

Said smile immediately dropped in his following confusion. That confusion, which caused words to flood out as though the gates had been open, because after all—“Why _would_ I be? It’s not like Matsuda-kun’s attitude is uncalled for—he’s antisocial and I’m annoying. I know that, so I’m just thankful he doesn’t snap at me as much as he ought to. That he tolerates me at all... I should be—I’m _grateful_. Not bothered. Not at all.”

And he means it, of course! He’s definitely grateful to Matsuda-kun, even if his gratitude didn’t match up to his admiration. He’s still grateful. He’s always been grateful to those who take time and effort out of their day to speak to him, especially when doing so yields no benefits as it so usually does. Matsuda is a remarkable individual for his achievements, of course, but he’s also so _kind_ , kinda like...

_...Headmaster Kirigiri is..._

“Komaeda-kun,” Said headmaster sighs, and this...this is actually rather strange. The older man looks almost sad even though he’s smiling. He stands, clearly to usher him out— _and yes, yes, Komaeda had been overstaying his welcome, so this made sense_ —and reaches out to clap his hand on Komaeda’s shoulder. “You’re more impressive than you give yourself credit for.”

_Headmaster Kirigiri is also kind._

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Bland, expectable words with an even more menial gesture to accompany them. Komaeda should have been more unaffected but as Jin Kirigiri ruffles his hair for the second time, but he couldn’t have been more affected— _trembling a bit at the touch, blushing shamefully under it, fighting to not push against it like some dog starved for affection_ —if he tried. It was the _second_ time, the motion still banal, but it was _Headmaster Kirigiri_ ’s gentle hand.

“Alright,” he pulled away, far sooner than Komaeda abashedly would have liked. “Now we’re really done here. Thank you for coming here and taking time out of your day for this, Komaeda-kun.”

_But it’s impossible to be disappointed,_ Komaeda thinks, when Headmaster Kirigiri once again offers his hand to shake and he happily takes it, giddily responding, “I’m glad to be of assistance. I should be thanking you for inviting me, Headmaster, I really enjoyed our time here.”

“Hmm.” The headmaster hummed, and though Komaeda smiles brightly up at him, his expression is unreadable now. Komaeda’s smile falls— _was that the wrong way to word it?_ —“Komaeda-kun, I’ll see you.”

That smile returns to the headmaster’s face as he gives Komaeda’s hand a firm shake and Komaeda only nods to agree. And the unease drops right back down to an ignorable level.

* * *

_Headmaster Kirigiri is kind, but... He’s also quite strange._

That’s what Komaeda thinks, even as his respect for the man scowls at him for it. _Headmaster Kirigiri is strange. Thinking luck is a talent—insisting such, and taking such risks with someone like me..._

But it wasn’t as though Jin Kirigiri was knowingly risking his life—even though that behavior...wouldn’t be a surprise, considering who could end up as an elite student and Komaeda wouldn’t be surprised, _even if he from the bottom of his heart **dreaded** the possibility_ , if one day they ended up with a SHSL Serial Killer— _but still!_ It was strange!

Luck itself as a general concept was only about probability—favorable things happening in the face of unfavorable probability. It’s things that happening not due to any rhyme or reason, but just because they could. That was how the headmaster himself explained it, completely unknowing of how, exactly _his_ luck worked.

Komaeda stopped, just as he reached the end of the hallway where he’d turn, and stared back at the door to Jin Kirigiri’s office. _If Headmaster Kirigiri knew that, what would change?_

...Nothing, perhaps. Or everything. It was uncertain. Perhaps he already knew. Komaeda wouldn’t doubt it—Headmaster Kirigiri was an intelligent man after all, and he knew about his parents... His condition... He could figure it out _easily_ , and yet...

He was still risking that luck for the sake of research.

_And that..._ Komaeda thinks. _That **worries** me._

_It’s **scary**. It’s **dangerous**._

But to someone like Headmaster Kirigiri, who’s devoted, hard-working, but ultimately reasonable... He must think that regardless of the risks, if his belief about luck being a talent is true, then he’ll pursue it wholeheartedly. Yes, yes, that’s the kind of person the headmaster he’s heard about, admired from afar, and has now had the incredible fortune and being able to speak to on more than one occasion— _that’s_ the kind of person he is.

**_...Ah._ **

Headmaster Kirigiri was driven.

_Yes._

Headmaster Kirigiri was dedicated.

_Yes, yes, yes..._

Headmaster Kirigiri, above all else, had his gaze directed to the brightest of futures, one he believed he would reach through the incredibleness of talent. His dream is the same as the Hope’s Peak Academy goal...

_To raise the future “hope” of the world._

**_...That’s right..._ **

Komaeda clasped his hands, wringing them as he stared blankly at the tiles. The tiles of HPA. As an elite student.

For the sake of “ ** _hope_** ”.

_That’s right. That’s right. That’s right, that’s right, that’s right, that’s right, that’s—_

“Ah... _ha_...Ha-ha... **_Ha-ha-ha_**!” That’s right. How could he have not seen it sooner? How stupid _was_ he? His fingers curled around the corner of the wall, body swaying and his mind went into a whirling spiral, laughter making him tremble with each syllable. Because it was so obvious wasn’t it? _It was so clear!_ As long as it was for the sake of hope, why would Headmaster Kirigiri be afraid of _anything_?

His giggles grew in fervor, and when he reached up to touch his face, it was _burning_ with glee.

He’d been _stupid_ , not seeing it sooner. But now that it’s become clear, there’s nothing holding him back with mere ‘ _concerns_ ’ and ‘ _anxieties_ ’. With his luck, in the support of hope, everything would be fine. He could place his faith in someone like Headmaster Kirigiri easily! All he had to do...

**_...was hope..._ **

And everything would be fine! Nothing to worry about at all! Because no matter what, an absolute like hope would never, **_ever_** —

“Yo, dude, are you...doing alright?”

Komaeda snapped to attention, eyes wide and instinctively leaning more against the wall. He made a sound of surprise, his blush deepening when he saw Souda standing there, giving him one of those looks he was so _used_ to that he only _deserved_ being dirt, and Komaeda just beamed.

“I’ve never been better! Thank you so much for asking, Souda-kun! But, ah- _a **a** h_, I do need to hurry, come to think of it...” His chest and throat were starting to hurt, even as his moods felt so high-spirited and excited.  His treatment was going to start soon, wasn’t it? In that case, he mustn’t slack off when it came to his health. He needed to take care of himself after all. “Yes, don’t mind me! It’s really nothing to worry about, and I hate to _inconvenience_ one of my classmates, but have a nice day, Souda-kun!!”

“Uh...sure... What was your name again?” Souda did wave as Komaeda bounced by him, and he introduced himself dutifully and quickly, cheerily unsurprised the other didn’t know already. With that, he wished Souda well again, and was about to rush off when...

_...Oh. Oh right._

He stopped dead in his tracks, remembering one of the many, many conversations he overheard. It’d be impudent, but, Headmaster Kirigiri would be disappointed if he didn’t try again at least once...

“...Actually... I overheard you inviting yourself to a study group that Sonia-san wanted to do before our next exam... She had been saying she wanted to bond with her fellow classmates, right? I actually saw her going around and inviting the other students, but actually had to be somewhere before she could get anywhere near me...” He turned back, noting that Souda stiffened and was....glaring? On guard? _Eh_? Why? Perhaps this _was_ being imprudent after all. But he couldn’t stop now. “I-I wanted to go, actually! Is that too much to ask for? I understand if it is! I was going to ask her, myself, but I thought I’d run it by you first, Souda-kun! Since you’re here! It’s... It’s just a forewarning, really!”

“Because you like her?!” Souda shot back, fuming and so angry that it threw him off-guard. “If you’re thinking of trying something funny...!”

“ _No_ , of _course_ not. My intentions are pure.” The response comes easily and Komaeda raises his chin, gaze narrowed before he broke back into his cheery smile. “If you’re that concerned, you can step in if need be. But we’re not rivals, Souda-kun—I can _promise_ that. Something like that for someone like me...would be outrageous. So really. I wouldn’t concern myself over an idea so deluded.”

Souda’s glare darkened, and Komaeda shrank even as he kept his lips quirked upwards. But, perhaps because Souda did have better places to be, Souda made a gesture pointing from his eyes to Komaeda, and coldly threatened, “I’m keeping my eyes on you. _Creep_.”

And that’s what he deserved, so he nodded meekly as Souda turned and headed out on his way. Though Souda did glance back a few times, scowling as he did. Komaeda waved, and that scowl darkened, so he decided he ought to go on his way as well.

His heart’s still pounding when he checks it. That situation could have gone a lot worse, and though he’s sure Souda rightfully dislikes him, he’s satisfied that Souda didn’t snap at him outright to stay away from Sonia. When he talks to the SHSL Princess— _which he’s steeled himself to do with that **forewarning** to Souda-kun_ —then that’s when things will really start to change for how he’s been handling everything so far.

Sonia is a kind-hearted individual from what he could tell, even though the chance that his attempts could still get shot down prematurely in this stage still existed. But even if they do, then well, he can just take another route. As long as he gets that desired end result, the means don’t _mean_ anything.

Still, with Jin Kirigiri’s goals and his faith in mind, Komaeda feels nothing short of that buzzing, joyous excitement in each step he takes to that bright, shining, hopefully **_hopeful_** future.


	5. Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to wait until the semester ended to work efficiently on this one and it still gave me a lot of trouble because there are so many characters in one place. Also Jin doesn't show up. At least not formally. So this really is a story more about Komaeda's school and social life than his sex life (which is still non-existent at this point) and love life. Or maybe it's secretly a harem story.
> 
> Serious notes: This chapter was going to have another scene but like, it's so long already and I like the way I ended it where it was so next time it is.
> 
> Also like, Komaeda was supposed to say "Correct" in English if that isn't clear (though) but like earlier he makes a reference to a word's two different meanings and I don't think that'd be the case in Japanese so... It's just weird writing a story where the characters technically speak in another language if you are aware of it and are thinking about it at some points. It's kind of an odd disconnect, I think... But maybe I think too much...
> 
> I need to rewrite some of the chapters of this story later on at some point or another. I probably won't until like, waaaaay later but if on some later date if you reread a section and feel like something's different, that's probably why.
> 
> Next chapter's going to be fun if I stick to my vague planning but let's see if it takes another four or more months to get it done because I make no promises.
> 
> (Almost forgot: warning for referenced but non-graphic eye horror)

There might be some sort of art to approaching royalty, though Sonia gave the impression of someone amicable, _approachable_. It’s impossible to overlook how friendly she is, though Komaeda himself can’t help but feel rather anxious all the same. Apprehensive as well.

But he’s also excited. His heart’s pounding and his palms are disgustingly clammy and he’s still set on speaking to her. It’s beyond base—especially impudent—he could imagine getting _executed_ , and that just made him giddier with the thrill.

Of course, Sonia is cordial and polite. Even if she did have the capabilities to calling for the death of whoever she so wished—she wouldn’t do so here. Komaeda still felt nervous about it though, and...

“Ah... A _ah_ , Miss Nevermind, right?” The title slipped seamlessly off his tongue, even as his voice did shake a bit. Sonia turned to him immediately, bright blues wide and off-guard. Komaeda wrung his fingers together, sheepish, wondering if it was himself or the properly pronounced English that surprised her so, and then she smiled.

“Please. Call me ‘Sonia-san’ like everyone else.” That smile brightened beautifully, and Komaeda found himself blushing. The effect of the SHSL Princess— _incredible_. He could only imagine the inspiration that’d strike portrait artists at the sight of such a perfect face—of her elegant posture as well, her book still laid out in front of her. If this wasn’t HPA’s library, the surroundings would have done her such an injustice.

But she’s not being painted right now so Komaeda should stop thinking that way, instead clearing his throat and correcting himself.

“Sonia-san, then.” It didn’t feel right for him to be saying someone’s given name, even like this. He hadn’t even done that in primary school—it felt too intimate, too improper. Granted, Sonia’s surname would have sounded awkward with the usual honorific so that was probably why she preferred using her given name, but that didn’t make this any less awkward for himself. He’d get over it though. “Ah, right. I’m Komaeda Nagito—I’m in your class, but if you didn’t notice, I don’t really...”

“Komaeda-san!” Sonia chirped, chipper and cheery. “I was curious about you! You’re very quiet, I’ve noticed—please excuse me for saying, but—I wanted to try and speak to you earlier, but you seemed so...anti-social. Tanaka-san is a bit reserved as well, so I still wondered. It’s such a pleasant surprise that you approached me first! It’s nice to meet you. The SHSL Lucky, right?”

Komaeda flinched, feeling his face heat up before his gaze fell to the floor, hopelessly embarrassed and timid as he confirmed, “Y...Yes. Yes, that’s me. It’s not...really the same as other SHSLs, but...”

_Headmaster Kirigiri seems to think differently..._

“Aha! So that was true, at least!” she laughed, lovely and ladylike. “My, winning a lottery as massive as the annual one from HPA—it’s certainly an impressive feat. Fortune in your favor can lead to some wonderful things, so I wouldn’t dare downplay it.”

_...wonderful..._ He wondered about that. “Hmm.”

“Oh, forgive me,” Sonia went on with a wave of a hand, a welcoming wave of her hand to insist, “You had something you wished to relay to me, correct? What was it?”

“Ah, yes,” Komaeda found his head tilting, smile fading, but managed, “You don’t _mind_ , do you, Sonia-san?”

“Mind what?” she blinked a few times, open smile in place even as the confusion and curiosity was clear in those blues. Komaeda held back the urge to laugh, unsure why, and continued with a chirp,

“ _Sonia-san_ was asking around, remember? You wanted to gather up a study group—which is actually more counterproductive than you think, because groups are very, very distracting and it’s harder to focus and retain the material that way...”

“Oh,” Sonia faltered then, gaze lowering as though she were embarrassed. Komaeda bit his tongue, and tried to widen his smile as she delicately resumed, “I was not aware of that.”

“In terms of interaction though, group discussions are a good enough way to go,” he went on, wringing his hands again. They felt tense, stiff, like little twigs that could be snapped off a branch with a flick of the fingers. Sonia looked unsettled already though, a _ah_ , he’s really quite bad at this after all, and he should just change his mind here and now. Say it was nothing after all and not upset her any more than he had already, but instead, “I...wanted to attend, if that isn’t too much trouble?”

She perks up, eyes wide. “You...do? Well, of course, Komaeda-san, I would have asked you myself, but—forgive me, I am a bit confused...”

“I wouldn’t dream of jeopardizing everyone’s scores and potential with my chatter, but continuously separating myself from them isn’t much good either. It’s...unhealthy, you see, to not _congregate_ with your peers every now and then.” Komaeda nods with the words, saying them the same way he recalled them being said so long ago— _firm, matter-of-fact, yet still careful enough to not set off that delicate trigger_ —and he can’t _help_ but laugh. “You’re above most of us in terms of class status, of course, but it’s still important to communicate, isn’t it, Sonia-san?”

Under his expectant gaze, Sonia just stares and blinks, almost like she’s at a bit of a loss. Almost like she’s come across a situation that required more strategy. But that’s rather silly to think—it’s not like she’s dealing with anything that’s any bit _worthy_ of her time, thought, and air.

But all the same, to his delight, she manages her polite, princess smile and nods agreeably. “Yes, communication is vital even among ah, separate classes. But here at this academy, we’re all in the _same class_ , aren’t we, Komaeda-san?”

“In a sense.” Komaeda says with a shrug. “I wouldn’t dare consider myself the same level as someone like you even then.”

“Well, that’s...” She pauses, and he can tell there’s a stiffness to her smile now. He’s seen that sort of smile on others before, but compared to Sonia, they were boring, uninteresting, normal civilians. Still, he recognizes the implications and swallows. “Well, Komaeda-san...”

 “You don’t have to be so polite to me, you know.”

“...Komaeda-san?”

“I mean,” his shoulders tense a bit as he chuckles, low and raspy. “I’m not really someone who amounts to anything. The only thing of any note in regards to myself is my luck and, well, you can’t really reason with something like that. It just happens as it pleases. So I wouldn’t be so concerned about the feelings of someone like me. You can be honest—you find me troubling, don’t you, Sonia-san?”

“Oh, no!” she exclaims, covering her mouth and she actually looks almost stricken. “Komaeda-san, that’s not what I meant to imply at all!!”

“It’s really fine!” He says right back, bright and perhaps a little too harsh on his throat. It actually stung a bit. But he can see how Sonia’s expression slowly starts to change as he goes on and on. “After all, I know well how much of a pest I can be a lot of the time—there’s nothing wrong with stepping on a _pest_...”

“Komaeda-san.” Sonia cuts him off immediately, and her gaze is sharp, stern. It’s as though it’s enough to sever his voice from his throat and he’s almost shaking with what could only be that _excitement_. “That’s enough. I won’t hear such cruelty. Don’t say such things.”

Even his _smile_ is shaking! And _still_ , she goes on.

“It is...important to congregate with your peers, especially here considering the expectations granted on us by this academy’s name. It’s for that reason that I wanted to gather a group to get to know one another and for us to help each other better ourselves.” Sonia clears her throat, almost like this was some sort of speech, and he’s almost giddy. It’s not _exactly_ the same as with Headmaster Kirigiri, but his heart’s still pounding. “While, unfortunately, not everyone I invited will be able to attend, I still wish to speak and study with all of you as fellow classmates. Komaeda-san, you are a classmate, so there is no issue or injustice in letting you attend this session.”

“Ah, yes...” He’s agreeing and nodding eagerly, and to that, her lips twitch as they’re pulled into a tight straight line. Then she smiles again, as expected of the kind-hearted Sonia-san, but he knows it’s faltered, not as bright as that smile she had given him in the beginning. It’s fine. It’s already more than he deserves.

“I’ll see you there, Komaeda-san?” Sonia does sound like she _wants_ to see him still and, well that—that’s more than he deserves as well. He can’t help but recall Jin Kirigiri again—part of him wonders when that man’s smile will fade as well, and...his chest clenches? _Now that’s rather strange_ —and he lets the reply fall unbidden from his own lips.

“Of course, Sonia-san.”

* * *

Sonia tells him the time and that the meeting place is in the very same library. There’s almost a professionalism about the exchange of information—Sonia already comes off as perfectly proper, but really being on the receiving end is such an impressive experience, and he’s glad even if this likely means he’s going to be knocked down the stairs a while later—and it goes by quickly enough, even with her having to stop his ramblings a few times.

He’s so gleeful, he could almost giggle for days. Even Kuzuryuu snapping at him—and Saionji and especially Matsuda—don’t put a hamper on his mood. It’s such good luck that he has to wonder what’ll end up happening and... He checks both the weather and any news, and though he’s unable to find any astronomy club at HPA with the appropriate SHSLs, he decides there probably won’t be a literal meteor shower that day.

After all, if Sonia dies, he’s unlikely to get anything out of it if that happens.  There’d certainly be far more complications and turmoil that would outweigh anything he _did_ get if that did happen anyway. So it most likely won’t.

It’ll most likely be significantly smaller in scale and honestly, he can live with that fine. He’ll throw himself down the stairs if need be, maybe even break one of his limbs. Though people may misinterpret that and...he’d prefer to avoid such situations...

He does think more on it, even as he pops in his pills before lying down in bed. The likeliest event comes just before he drifts—because he does remember, one place at one time when he had pressed his back to the wall by the doorway of his school’s library, how he pressed his hands close and hung his head low and—well, then it’s gone because he’s in a fast, dreamless sleep.

* * *

He shows up early, bustling with anticipation and initially, he’s the first and only one at the designated meeting place. He has to climb a few flights of stairs and it’s in a surprisingly discreet area behind a couple of the bookshelves. Normally, students meet on the first floor from his experience, but perhaps those more areas were busy enough with the number of computers and laptops seeing use. Or maybe...

There’s a window by one of the desks, one that shows quite the impressive view of HPA. He could even see the reserve course faculties over the hill in the west district. They really looked so small— _insignificant_ —though he’s sure the buildings themselves are presentable enough on the outside. He couldn’t really see much of the ‘ _students_ ’ there themselves—perhaps they were more like dots, or ants, scuttling about.

He hums, tracing circles around that reserve course architecture, tracing the shape of it all itself, before slashing diagonally and upwards through with a swipe of his thin pointer finger. He’s chuckling to himself when he hears the pleasant bell-like tone of Sonia’s greeting.

“Komaeda-san, so you made it.”

“So this was the right place after all?” he asks cheerily, pointing at the window and brightening his expression when he noted Sonia’s head was lowered a bit. There was a bit of uneasiness to her stare, but she was still looking at him in the very least. Sonia was really quite kind. The luckiness of this pattern was starting to worry him. “It has quite the view, doesn’t it?”

“That is why I chose it. I apologize if it ended up being a tedious find.” At him shaking his head, Sonia does giggle a bit with a dainty hand to her lips. With her smile a bit wider, she goes on, “Please also excuse me for keeping you waiting, Komaeda-san. I hadn’t expected others also coming here early.”

“Oh dear, you mustn’t worry about inconveniencing someone like me at all, Sonia-san. I should apologize more for breathing your air, after all.”

“Don’t say such things.” That stern order in the expression and voice of a true SHSL. There was little he could do but shut his mouth complacently again, beam, and sit down eagerly with his back to the window as Sonia seated herself so very delicately. She started pulling out her folders, notebooks, and textbooks, both marked and impeccably organized.

He almost sighed admirably. _As expected, of course, of Sonia-san._ But he remained silent since, after all, Sonia had yet to return his privilege to speak and waste the space away with his voice. He’ll wait until then patiently, obediently. It’s what’s expected and proper to do in regards to royalty.

He might as well at least wait until any of the others show up.

* * *

Togami is the first. Which is expectable, and he’s practically buzzing in his seat as the heir greets Sonia formally and the two start chatting amicably while setting their materials out. It’s an incredible opportunity, but he still has to keep quiet and subdued to the best of his ability.

His heart’s still difficult to settle.

When Togami looks towards him, he’s sure his pulse jumps as well as a shiver going up his spine. He keeps his gaze politely averted, tense fingers entwining and clasping underneath the desk. Sonia’s talking again—explaining his blight of a presence, perhaps, but then he hears Togami’s response.

“He’s...our year’s SHSL Lucky, correct?”

_As expected!!_

“Yes, that’s me!!” Komaeda couldn’t help himself, confirmation cheery and ecstatic. “Please, don’t concern yourself with me at all, Togami-kun!!”

“Hm.” Togami huffed, clearly unimpressed and why wouldn’t he be? Komaeda laughs brightly, adjusting his seating a bit before dropping his gaze back down, head hanging low.

_No good. I was supposed to keep quiet. Wretched. Worthless. The **worst** —_

“Komaeda, was it?”

“Yes...” he answered absentmindedly, brushing his hair back and avoiding all stares as he kept his eyes on the edge of the table. “Yes, that’s me. Please don’t concern yourself with me at all, Togami-kun.”

“It’s a bit unusual...” Komaeda snapped up at the comment, eyes wide. Togami met those eyes coolly, but was that a speck of curiosity? He had to be imagining it. “You normally keep your distance, don’t you? Yet Sonia mentions you approached her first.”

“Yes... I did...” _It was impertinent of me—I really shouldn’t have. Careless. Thoughtless. That someone so insignificant would even dare to step out that precarious boundary, not following the right social cues—I deserve to be torn apart by the storm. I should leave. I should leave now._ “Excuse me...”

He almost did, stacking his things together and nearly sliding them back into his bag. He stopped himself before he could grab the strap, pausing before drawing his hand back and deciding just as quickly against it.

_It’d be boring...if things just continued going the way of me keeping my distance... It might even disappoint others. It’d certainly disappoint Headmaster Kirigiri—_

Headmaster Kirigiri.

_Yes..._

He mustn’t disappoint Headmaster Kirigiri.

“I am allowed to be here, right?” he asked, aloud yet calm. Sonia flinched a bit and Togami perked up, but really, neither of them should have been affected. Not by someone like him. He smiled, hoping that would come across. “I... I just mean that...”

“I already said there was no issue.” Sonia responded quickly, almost sharply, but she smiled just as swiftly. “Komaeda-san, above all else, you are our classmate.”

Togami does nod in agreement as if it’s really that simple and Komaeda has to fight the urge to laugh until his sides split. For now, he just smiles back and leaves everything at that. This time for good.

* * *

“Sonia-chan!!”

Koizumi’s smile is bright with the greeting. It’s one he’s seen her give many of the other girls in their class—especially Saionji, who was sadly absent—he overheard Koizumi saying something about her having practice and apologizing for it—and Satou, who was actually trailing close behind with a chipper greeting of her own. Pekoyama followed close behind along with Tsumiki, mutely giving a proper bow in greeting. Tsumiki, in comparison, bows so furiously he could imagine it hurting. Sonia’s quick to be additionally kind to Tsumiki in her welcoming. Komaeda just smiles all the same, drawing circles on his cheek as his chin is balanced upon his palm.

Koizumi does politely greet Togami as well, but perhaps she’s a bit on edge with him. She’s certainly more suspicious than easygoing as before. But she does still smile, and it’s still pretty on a fairly plain face.

That pretty smile drops the second her gaze lands on Komaeda. Instead, she bristles, hands on her hips with her eyes narrowed. “You were the rude guy at the dinner. Komaeda, right?”

He hadn’t forgotten. She hadn’t forgiven. As truly ashamed as he was, he couldn’t help but be happy she remembered his name from that time. But it was really undeserved she did—she should have just put that pitiful encounter out of her mind and worries.

“Yes. Koizumi-san, I’m truly sorry...” Komaeda laughed a bit ruefully, though his smile grew more strained when Koizumi still looked so unconvinced. Maybe he should get to his hands and knees for her? Or would that just make her think he was mocking her? “I’m afraid the reason why I wasn’t as responsive as I should have been at the dinner was because I was...”

“Distracted.” Koizumi finished for him and he nodded agreeably. She sighs. “You couldn’t stop looking elsewhere. I noticed that much.”

...Elsewhere being in the direction of Headmaster Jin Kirigiri. Chatting and smiling with other adults. For some reason, his chest clenched yet again at the memory and his head once again dropped meekly.

“I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Geez, don’t make that face.” Koizumi only looked more annoyed. “You’re a guy, aren’t you? Guys shouldn’t look that pitiful.”

He really shouldn’t have laughed at that. It just would have aggravated her even more. Still, he couldn’t help it. It was almost instinctual, so he just had to make sure he quickly apologized the second he was able. Koizumi was already fuming though.

“E-Excuse me, Koizumi-san...” He had to cough a few times in between his chuckles. “A-A _ah_. Just... Expectations like that one someone like me are only ever going to disappoint you. You don’t deserve that, so I’d warn against it.”

“That’s...” Koizumi’s nose wrinkled before scrunching up in what could very easily be disdain. “That’s unpleasant of you, Komaeda.”

He giggled, though it hurt his throat a bit. “Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m not angry.” She sighed heavier this time. Satou sat between him and her, not saying a word to him but directing an expression or perhaps even mouthing something towards Koizumi that made her visible stress wane for the time being. She did smile again, thankfully, before turning to Tsumiki, speaking kindly and gently as the purple-haired girl stumbled to get to her seat. Pekoyama had already seated herself, pulling out her things and stacking them neatly in a manner reminiscent of Sonia from before. But quicker, more to the point.

“Oh... Komaeda-san.” Tsumiki’s voice grabbed his attention as he noted her meeting his gaze, a little perked like her curiosity was piqued, and he kept a calm smile. “Are you well enough to be here?”

It’s as expected. He hadn’t really spoken to her before outside of this, but he figured she would have known if not noticed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he pondered if she ever spoke to Matsuda directly. Then again Matsuda was likely to make her cry, considering how he could be at times. That wouldn’t be any good at all.

“I wouldn’t worry about that, Tsumiki-san.” Bright. Simple. His laugh doesn’t paint him as it did earlier, which is a bit of a relief. “I wouldn’t be here if the situation were dire.”

_It’d just be a burden on everyone, so..._

“Y-You’re right!!” Tsumiki sobbed, eyes teary before she covered her face with a heave of her shoulders. “That should have been obvious a-and yet I said it anyway... _Hic_. I’m sorry I’m so stupid... _Uu_...”

“It was kind of you to worry, Tsumiki-san.” He said quickly, waving it off. “Thank you.”

_I’m not any good, either. Koizumi-san’s looking at me again so suspiciously..._ Though there was something rather strange about that stare too. But he should be more focused on Tsumiki, sniffling and excusing herself as she took her seat. She does finally nod frantically, inelegantly sputtering, “I-It’s really nothing!!”

Komaeda does manage a fond smile, one that twitches when he catches Koizumi hurriedly looking away from him and speaking to Tsumiki in a low tone of voice. Tsumiki’s attention is completely fixed on her in return, and it’s almost like just as quickly as she noticed him, Komaeda had completely vanished from her concerns. That was that.

He barely even registers Souda’s joyful exclamation of Sonia’s name—she greets him politely, he apologizes profusely for being late, Togami soon says something about getting started, and... His head’s starting to whirl. He barely even registers Souda shooting a glare in his direction.

_That’s right_ —this was group studying in addition to camaraderie. Somehow, he’s already exhausted. He’s certainly overwhelmed the more he thinks about it, but that’s hardly anything notably new. All the same, he’s still eager, jittery with that excitement even now.

_The bad luck that’s going to come following this—I wonder what it will be..._

He couldn’t help but giggle into his hand, shoulders quivering just a bit from the sounds. Somehow, he feels stares again— _and who might it be? Koizumi-san? Souda-kun?_ —and yet, when he opens his eyes, everyone is turned dutifully towards Togami, who’s talking about previous lessons from their classes.

Smiling, Komaeda’s fingers lace together just before he rests his chin upon them and listens.

* * *

The session is expectably organized, which is in no doubt due to the admirable efforts of Sonia and Togami both. They had both been talking about it before the others arrive. In spite of everything, it all seems to go so smoothly.

_As expected of SHSL!!_

Everyone was for the most part, attentive and open. Souda kept staring at Sonia, which she was either oblivious to or outright ignoring. At least Satou and Koizumi were at ease talking to each other—though now that he noticed it, it was always rather hard to see Satou’s expressions past her long dark hair. If he stared at her too intently, Koizumi would scold him again.

_But I do wonder... I’ve never really been in group activities like this before._

Tsumiki was smiling a bit too, though she’d get a bit teary every now and then, sniffling as she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. Pekoyama seemed perfectly patient with her though, focused and unaffected. Togami seemed to be deep in thought, but there was a coolness to his air that he couldn’t help but admire, even if part of him strained to wonder what the SHSL Heir could be thinking about. All the same, it was...

_...nice. It was nice._

“Oh, Komaeda.”

He instantly snapped to attention. “Ah... Koizumi-san...”

“Sonia-chan said you’re fluent in English—is that true?” Koizumi didn’t look like she doubted it, but there was a bit of uncertainty lacing the comment and the question. He glanced towards the paper she was holding turned towards him so that he was able to ascertain the content. Koizumi’s handwriting was neat, the letters perfectly legible. But the spelling and grammatical issues were apparent enough. Sonia was smiling at them both angelically—but he definitely picked up on a hint of _something_ underneath. It felt a lot like mischief. _Interesting_.

“I... ah... Yes...”

“Then you can correct this, right?” She extended the paper towards him. Her expression was still judgmental with a hint of wariness. But there was also a tenseness to her features, one that made him wonder how worried she was about her English skills. “Komaeda?”

“Yes, sure thing, Koizumi-san.” He took it and corrected it quickly, checking twice to make sure and handing it back.  She did thank him quietly. He appreciated that, even if Koizumi was avoiding his gaze again once he smiled back.

_I wonder if this all there is to it..._

It’s a lot more at ease than he expected. He almost squirmed in his seat, legs cramping up and feeling the need to stand and stretch them out. Well, with how at ease everything was, where was the harm? He stood and leaned back against the window, folding his arms and glancing over the rest of the group intently before directing his gaze towards the corner of the window sill.

There were only a few students wandering around outside, but quite a few birds rustling in the trees all around. At ease. Everything was so at _ease_. He could practically hear the ongoing ticking of the clock, each second passing by indiscriminately even as the world seemed to still to a leisurely drag.

_Is this really all there is to it?_

“Komaeda-san.” Sonia called to him, earning him to instinctively turn back to her and her kind smile. “Is there something on your mind?”

He didn’t have to look around to know there’d be those suspicious stares again. This isn’t the first time someone asked him that question and people looked at him in such a manner. Even though he really should be overlooked as easily as a crumbling leave on the concrete—it’s so strange that he ends up in such situations.

_They’re SHSL..._

“Don’t worry about me.” Komaeda still says it easily as always. “I’m not someone to concern yourselves over. So, just...”

“You say that quite a bit.” Togami’s the one who spoke up this time, making him flinch. Then those cool blue eyes narrowed—that suspicion again. But it felt like this time that it spread to everyone—even Tsumiki and Sonia looked rather wary as his smile twitched.

_And they’re still susceptible to such things..._

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Troubled, perhaps?

“I only repeat it because it’s true you know.” His hands rose, entreating and harmless. “See, compared to everyone here, I’m nothing special or important. Having luck hardly makes me esteemed. So for people like you to waste your thoughts and concerns on someone like me—it’s troubling! As I’ve been _saying_ , I’m not someone to concern yourselves over.”

_How many times must I say something before it becomes clear? Hey... Why are you still looking at me like that? Am I truly that deplorable?_

“What’s with those worried looks still?” Komaeda asks, voice rising. “Did I say something _wrong_? Or am I misunderstanding the situation? Do you think I’m joking around? I’m not. I usually don’t say things I don’t mean, so—”

“It’s nothing!” Sonia exclaims, stopping him with a raise of her hand and shaking her head. There was a twinge to her tone that he picked up on and truly wondered about as she went on. “Komaeda-san, I’m sure no one here was implying anything? Right? Everyone?”

“Can I ask something?” Souda raised his hand, teeth gritted and glare narrowed as Komaeda perked up. He nodded, of course, keeping a tight-lipped smile all the while. “What exactly is your deal?”

_Deal?_ Komaeda couldn’t help but think of Mahjong, of drawing and tossing tiles with Headmaster Kirigiri. How he forced himself to retain a smile even in that uncomfortable atmosphere and how it was the same here. But Souda was asking him such a strange question. Was he expected to just rattle off everything wrong with him like a checklist? This wasn’t the time for that, in addition to that, what kind of burden would that put on his classmates?

It was such a ludicrous notion that despite himself, his smile waned. “Souda-kun, I said many times that you needn’t...”

“I got that.” Souda brushed that off immediately, annoyed. Komaeda held his tongue once he did, but couldn’t help but feel more agitated. “Here’s a different question: why are you here anyway?”

“Headmaster Kirigiri...” It almost drifted out mechanically with him trailing off absentmindedly. “The lottery, I suppose...”

Souda raised an eyebrow and everyone was looking at him a bit questioningly. He couldn’t help but laugh again, clarifying. “Well, I had to win the lottery Headmaster Kirigiri sets up every year to attend, right? Were you referring to something else, Souda-kun?”

There’s a flicker of hesitation there in Souda’s gaze, but he answers anyway.

“...Yeah.” Running irritated fingers through his hair, other huffed. “I was referring to you asking _Sonia-san_ to attend this get-together.”

“Well, yes, I did ask. Of course I did.” Togami had noted this earlier, hadn’t he? Komaeda tilted his head to the left. “It’d be impudent to just show up unannounced, right? It’s common courtesy to request invite if not given one beforehand.”

“I would have invited him regardless.” Sonia points out. “Komaeda-san is our classmate, so I wouldn’t leave him out.”

For some reason, this tidbit just seemed to bother Souda a lot more. Insecurity perhaps? Though Komaeda thought little of such a thing in that case. _The concern is laughable. Sonia-san is simply kind. The **most** I can reasonably expect from others is kindness._

“I-I didn’t mean anything towards you, Sonia-san,” Souda was stumbling a bit in talking to her, though she simply looked at him oddly, flustering even more. “No! What I mean was—if Komaeda doesn’t want us questioning him or whatever, why would he want to be here? We’re here to get to know each other right? What’s the point of coming to something like this is you’re going to be tight-lipped about yourself? D-Don’t you think so, Sonia-san?”

_...Oh..._

“I suppose, but isn’t it rather harsh on someone to demand complete openness from the beginning?” Sonia asked, frowning with a thoughtful posture. “I also wanted us to get more _comfortable_ with one another when I planned this as well...”

“Why would you assume it’d be that simple anyway?!” Koizumi scolded as Souda immediately faltered and clammed up at Sonia’s response. He didn’t respond directly to her and irritated, she slammed her hands on the table to get his attention. “I know you’re a guy and all, but patience is important!”

“But he is right. Everyone’s right.” Komaeda points out, but he goes unheard. They still seem caught up in themselves, ignoring a mite like himself and arguing. Souda wouldn’t dare talk back to Sonia, but he _was_ trying to defend himself against Koizumi. Satou was saying something too as Koizumi got angrier. Tsumiki looked like she was about to start crying again. No good, no **_good_**... _SHSLs need to work together, right? It’s no good if you’re arguing—if you’re going to shine brightly as symbols of hope, you mustn’t...!_

“That’s enough!!” Togami shouted, silencing everyone as he huffed with an adjustment of his glasses. There was a noticeable glare in the lenses which struck Komaeda as rather odd. This might not have been the time to ponder it but it remained niggling in the back of his mind. “We’re here to study as much as communicate and conflict isn’t going to help either. Let’s drop the subject and get back on track.”

“T... That’s right! Everyone, please calm yourselves!” Sonia ordered, regaining herself quickly after an initial stumble. “Let’s just return to our studies. As much as we are classmates, we are also students. We have exams to be concerned with.”

“That much should have been clear from the start.” It’s a surprise that Pekoyama notes this—she’d been quietly looking over her materials and observing all this time. But the words were predictably sharp, no-nonsense and admirably direct. “Let’s return to our studies. Perhaps we should wait until after the test to get to know one another more.”

“Y-Yeah...” Souda groaned, rubbing his forehead as Koizumi sat down quietly albeit still a bit ruffled. Tsumiki was wiping at her eyes as he grumbled, low and meek, “Sorry, Sonia-san...”

“It is of no concern.” Sonia says cheerily. “As Pekoyama-san says, we’ll wait until after the tests! For now, let’s help each other here. Ah, Komaeda-san, how about you help me with kanji?”

“My handwriting’s awful so I’m not a good person to ask, Sonia-san.” he waves his hands, shoulders shaking a bit. Sonia nodded and turned to Togami instead. Just like that, everything was at ease again.

_...How nice!!_

Komaeda grinned brightly, extending his arms merrily. “Isn’t this so much _better_ working with one another rather than bickering amongst ourselves? _Certainly_ , everyone should be acting as comrades rather than concerning themselves with someone like me!”

“Ah, yes, of course...” Sonia smiles his way, but there’s that strain to her lips again. “But, Komaeda-san, you still shouldn’t talk about yourself that way as I’ve said before.”

“Sonia-san, you really are kind,” he says, to which Souda glares at him in irritation. “However, it doesn’t change things. Me aside, everyone is here because of their _talent_ , you know. That’s what makes everyone here different from everyone else. Save the reserve course too, of course!”

Before Sonia could so much as plead, Koizumi stood again, fixing him with a critical stare. “What is that supposed to mean, Komaeda? Just because we got into this school, that somehow means we’re no longer normal—”

“Correct.” The ‘t’ sound is sharp between his teeth with that smile. Koizumi flinches with how quick the response is. That uncertainty that flickers across her features is no good at all as he clarifies. “This school isn’t just a pretty prestigious name to put on your resume, Koizumi-san. Oh no, Hope’s Peak is _above_ simply that.” Hands held out, smile radiant on his face. “This wonderful place is meant to be the breeding ground of ‘ _hope_ ’ not just for the nation, but for the _entire world_! To be accepted and scouted for this place means you’re not only an exceptional student, but also that you’re a potential beacon of hope for the future!”

“T-That’s a bit much, isn’t it?” Koizumi pointed out, still bothered, to his dismay. “I mean, yeah, that’s the school’s motto, but...”

“We’ve all listened to Headmaster Kirigiri’s speech.” Satou spoke up, drawing his attention. To that, Koizumi nodded furiously. Komaeda’s smile simply brightened even more.

“It was a wonderful speech, wasn’t it? There’s truth in it.” _Headmaster Kirigiri devoted himself to it after all. That’s why I’m here even though I don’t deserve it._ Yet it was still an honor. It was still so wonderful he could be here, cheering on these incredible classmates of his and even being their stepping stone if they so needed. _That’s why..._ “That’s why I have to support everyone here so wholeheartedly, not just so that you can take on these roles, but so you can do so while shining brightly! Preferably your bright _est_ if at all possible! For the sake of the future, isn’t it our duty?”

“T-That...” Koizumi was flustered and clearly stressed. Even Sonia was silent and still. No, everyone was either still or stressed. Souda and Tsumiki even looked shaken. Togami, to an extent...

Komaeda couldn’t help but laugh, trying to extend his arms pacifyingly. “That’s just how it is, you know. But isn’t it better this way as opposed to being like the reserve course students? Like every other drearily _normal_ being out there? Lighten up, everyone!”

His head tilted, keeping his smile as wide as he could. “As symbols of hope, you mustn’t let such things shake you—”

The sound of something shattered was sudden. Enough to make even himself flinch and feel that sharp sting in his hand. It was dead silent in the brief following, and Komaeda looked over to see something had shot clean through the glass of the window, creating a web-like pattern of cracks around the hole left in its wake. Was it a bullet? Though he could tell that whatever it was, it couldn’t have hit anyone directly, at least.

But his hand had been cut from the glass. That explained the sting, and some bits of the window had gotten on him and perhaps even in the cuts. Nonchalantly, Komaeda brushed what bits of glass he could off of his sleeve.

In the corner of his gaze, Satou had a hand covering her face and she was shaking, making a sharp, keening sound. “M-My... My eye...”

Then it was like everyone jerked into motion.

Souda was screaming about what just happened, Tsumiki had rushed to their side to check their injuries, and Togami shouted something about them needing to call for a nurse, a doctor, or something. Pekoyama already left to fetch just that as Koizumi was trying to comfort Satou.

“Komaeda-san,” Tsumiki told him, her trembling grip tight on his hand. “Some small pieces got stuck in your skin. P-Please remain still...”

Satou was crying, Koizumi was begging her to not push herself lest she aggravate the injury further. Souda managed to regain himself and made his way over to check the window, muttering something Komaeda couldn’t fully comprehend. Finally, Sonia managed to approach him, worry written all over her horrified face.

“Komaeda-san... Your expression hasn’t changed since it happened...”

No, it really hasn’t. His lips are still pulled into a straight-line and though he feels the sting, it doesn’t show on his face. Sonia looked between him and Satou before dropping her head in what couldn’t be anything other than shame and guilt.

“Don’t blame yourself,” he says, and he does smile. “It’s just how it is, Sonia-san.”


	6. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as "Let's Address That Pesky Reserve Student Branch"
> 
> Not really much to say here without giving a lot away. But I rather liked this chapter for painfully obvious reasons. If only we could go that route instead of the one we're on. Except not really.
> 
> Changed the tags too because at this point they're just misleading.
> 
> Warnings for violence and injuries this chapter, though both are mild and in the former, it's just a shove. It's more accurate to note there are references to bullying in a sense.

The sound of his humming is barely louder than the meticulous plucking of glass from his hand, the nurse careful and quiet as she observed it closely with a magnifying glass. It’s not terribly long—no complications, in the very least—and afterwards, she laughs in that sort of saccharine tone he’s gotten used to, “You’re quite lucky, Komaeda-kun, that this is hardly serious.”

He laughs too as she cleans the wound, bandages his hand up, and sends him on his way. Even though he just left a nurse’s office, his next destination is the medical facilities. He’s a little late for when he _likes_ to show up, which is a shame, but it couldn’t be helped. Couldn’t be helped.

_Sonia-san was still quite stressed after Satou-san was taken. Still feeling guilty—even though I said she shouldn’t feel that way, it’s a shame... I’m sure she’ll be fine though along with the others, after all. Satou-san will recover, I’m sure of it. It’s a bit of an issue what happened, considering her talent, but if she overcomes it then that will be—_

His thoughts paused once he came into the building and came across a familiar, still sullen red-head. But this time, someone else was with her, gleefully chattering and trying to cheer her up.

 _Mioda-san_. He’d recognize that unique style anywhere. She was certainly a lot brighter in person.

“Koizumi-san,” he greeted politely, waving at them both with his good hand with the other shuffled into his pocket. “Mioda-san too, good afternoon. You’re waiting for Satou-san, right? She’ll be fine, you know.”

“Komaeda...” Koizumi muttered in response, discomfited before Mioda looked towards him with wide eyes.

“Ehh?! You know what happened to Yumi-chan too?!”

He nodded, humming, “I was there at the time, Mioda-san, so I saw what happened myself.”

“You were?! I wasn’t!!”  Mioda’s face twisted into a pout as she moaned, throwing her head back. “It’s not Ibuki’s fault she couldn’t make it, but... It’s just a real shame! What happened sounds like something out of a movie!”

Koizumi shrugs at that and Komaeda supposes he has the same reaction, though he’s smiling all the same. “As I said, I’m sure Satou-san will be fine...”

“Speaking of Yumi-chan,” Koizumi started, fiddling with her fingers. There was still that uncomfortable expression on her face, like something had been gnawing at her for a while now and she could only sit and let it. “How’s your hand, Komaeda?”

Mioda perked back up. “Komaeda? _Hand_?”

“It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt much, really,” he answered plainly, pulling it out so that both girls could see the bandages. “Even the nurses at HPA are something else, don’t you think? It wouldn’t surprise me if they were past SHSLs, so Satou-san is in some really trustworthy hands.”

“Umm...” Komaeda looked towards Mioda, her wide-eyed gaze still blinking curiously up at him. “So wait... _You’re_ the guy who got injured too? Komaeda...? Komaeda what?”

_Oh. Right. Mioda-san uses given names to refer to others._

“Nagito... Komaeda Nagito.”

“Nagito-chan,” she nodded, satisfied, while Komaeda’s smile twitched. Another rarity he’d have to get used to when it came to his classmates—he certainly hadn’t been called the ‘chan’ honorific in a long time, his given name also being rather uncommon following elementary.  “Hey, is it true that you’re _that_ guy, Nagito-chan?”

“That guy...?” he repeated, to which Mioda nodded again, grinning.

“That guy! The _lucky_ guy! The only SHSL not getting tailed by researchers!” When he confirmed it, she laughed loudly. “I envy you! As audiences, the researchers rarely applaud! They’re so quiet a lot of the time and they don’t talk much either. It’s kinda cre _e_ py! Ibuki keeps looking back, wondering if they’ll take a syringe out and she’ll end up waking up strapped down as part of an experiment!”

“That’s a rather theatrical concern to have...” _Though at the same time, it’s probably for the best I don’t get followed around, knowing how my luck actually is._ “I don’t think that’ll happen though, Mioda-san.”

“Still, they could at least be more interactive...” Mioda puffed her cheeks out, booing. “Don’t you think so too, Nagito-chan?”

“It’s not my place to say, but...” Komaeda’s eyes drifted towards the clock. Still a bit of time to spare. He’s always hoping he could catch Matsuda by arriving early but this isn’t so bad either. “Mm...”

“Ibuki-chan, let’s worry about Yumi-chan first,” Koizumi said suddenly, placing a hand on the darker-haired girl’s shoulder with a placating smile on her face. _That_ smile. It’s one that catches his attention even though he’s noticed it on Koizumi’s face quite a few times before, normally when she was speaking to Saionji.

A few notable words come to mind if he wanted to describe it. Maternal, certainly. Kind, especially. It was an _especially_ kind smile for sure. There was a pang in his chest despite that, or maybe because of it, and it was one of many moments the smile on his own face felt like a shallow mask that he only wore by design in comparison.

Thinking of Headmaster Kirigiri’s gentle smile as well— _well_ , the signs of his inconsequentiality just kept piling and piling. Still, after this, he wouldn’t mind seeing Headmaster Kirigiri again... He almost yearned for it, which was strange. A lot of things had been rather strange lately.

_This longing that I was reminded of by Koizumi-san that doesn’t entirely have to do with Headmaster Kirigiri—it’s pretty strange as well..._

But how _consequential_ could it possibly be? He could have smiled, shaken his head at the thought, but that’d be odd to do in company. Though as he pondered it, he did pick up a voice calling out,

“Koizumi-san, Mioda-san? You can see Satou-san now if you like.”

“Oh, good!” Koizumi responded as Mioda cheerily jumped up. Then, to his complete surprise, Mioda took his arm.

“C’mon, Nagito-chan,” she said brightly. “We’re visiting Yumi-chan now.”

“Oh...” _Right, I didn’t..._ He pulled back, laugh sounding a little harsh when Mioda didn’t immediately let go and only looked at him quizzically with a tilt of her head. “No, that’s not why I came here...”

“No?” Her stare grew more intent. Scanning him up and down. Scrutinizing even though he’s such an eyesore. His smile falters, he tugs against her grip and this time, she lets him go with a sudden grin. “Okay then! Later then! Nagito-chan, you really need to eat more!”

“Ah, yeah...” He watches as she skips back to Koizumi, loudly announcing that she’ll be the one to sign Satou’s eyepatch and while Koizumi does shake her head, he catches another passing smile on her face. Then she glances back, and that smile is gone before she quickly looks away. Komaeda’s not sure how long he stood there, watching the two go, twisting his wrist in his grip and feeling his hand perspire under the suddenly uncomfortable bandages. It’s getting rather itchy.

A lot of cuts get itchy. Especially the ones that need to be stitched shut. _Right_. He needs to go lie down. _Sit_ down for now. There’s still a little bit of time left. After he’s called, then he’ll lie down.

It’s a shame he might not get to speak to Matsuda today—if not for that incident in the library then _perhaps_ but _it’s no use worrying about it now_ —and there’s always next time for at least the first year. Half a year. A lot can happen in that time. His hand’s already bandaged after all.

* * *

He’s exhausted enough that he doesn’t bother with taking sleeping pills this night. He overexerted himself it seemed—overexcited as well, which had been the case for a while and the buzz still hadn’t faded completely away. But there are other feelings as well.

He wondered how Satou was—surely Sonia and the others visited her in addition to Koizumi and Mioda. Even though it’s a shame something like that happened to someone like her, she’s fortunate that she has such good friends. They’ll support her, surely, and she’ll get stronger in spite of the situation.

_She’s SHSL after all. They all are. They’ll pull through with progress. Get stronger. In the end, that’s what matters._

* * *

“Komaeda-kun,” The greeting is quicker than usual, almost hurried. But Headmaster Kirigiri smiles all the same as he returns it politely, bowing, and then the man asks, “How is your hand?”

 _Like with Koizumi-san..._ Komaeda mused, mildly tickled with the coincidence but responding the same way nonetheless. Except this time, for whatever reason, he kept that hand behind his back, careful as he scratched at the bandages. “It’s nothing to worry about, headmaster. In fact I could be able to unbandage it soon enough...”

“Let me see it, Komaeda-kun.” Kirigiri said sternly, reaching his hand out. Komaeda blinked a few times but obeyed, placing his hand in the headmaster’s and pressing his lips close together. Despite the coolness in the office due to conditioning, there was a kind of uncomfortable warmth spreading across his body as Headmaster Kirigiri examined his hand, at the slightly worn and scuffed bandages. “You shouldn’t mess with these even if they’re itchy, Komaeda-kun. It’ll just aggravate the injuries.”

Komaeda nodded, humming. “Mm. Sorry, headmaster.”

“I should apologize,” the headmaster muttered, sighing as he stared at the bandaged hand in his own. His grip tightened a bit, perhaps impulsively or unintentionally, but all the same making him flinch. Thankfully, perhaps, Headmaster Kirigiri didn’t notice as he continued, “What happened was an oversight and resulted in two students injured, and I’m truly at fault for not taking such accidents into consideration.”

“Ah, but, Satou-san is already receiving the best treatment in the country, right? What happened was a shame, of course...” Komaeda paused as Kirigiri looked towards him, eyes a bit widened like he was startled, and as the student pulled his hand back, he found his heart was hammering against his chest. “S...Satou-san is a very strong person, and very impressive—she’ll surely pull through and become even more incredible for it, she’s SHSL after all. Don’t you think so, Headmaster Kirigiri?”

“Well, yes, of course,” the man answered, a bit low as he rubbed at his temple. He smiled, but it was obviously more forced than usual, and Komaeda dropped his gaze meekly. “Komaeda-kun, it was still a regretful situation. In the very least, Satou-san may not lose half her sight...”

 _... Really now?_ “So shouldn’t she be fine then, if that’s the case?”

“She’ll recover, if that’s what you mean.” Komaeda glances up fleetingly, noting that Headmaster Kirigiri’s forced smile faltered a bit, and that the man gestured with a free hand, sighing. “But she’ll still be a bit shaken by the event... Injuries like that, even if they physically heal, can have quite the unfortunate impact on a person psychologically. I can only hope it wasn’t too traumatizing for the poor girl to go through.”

_Psychologically... Traumatizing?_

**_“Poor kid—even if his injuries heal, he still lost his parents—”_ **

_But surely Satou-san will be fine? She’s SHSL, after all. If her hope is strong enough, surely..._

“Komaeda-kun?”

He snapped up, startled, and Headmaster Kirigiri’s expression shifted to one of a concerned adult. The same as from back then—he’s seen it enough afterwards that he should be long used to it by now. Still, he feels unsteady as he manages his response,

“Ah... yes, Headmaster Kirigiri?”

“Is there something on your mind?” the man implores carefully. “Something you’d like to discuss?”

“N...No, not really...” Komaeda’s blinking furiously though and his face feels hot as usual. As usual—and he’s still not _used_ to it. It’s strange. Strange, strange, strange. “It’s really nothing, headmaster. Nothing worth discussing, anyway... You’re busy enough, right? I should leave...”

Just as he’s about to stand, Headmaster Kirigiri speaks up again, making him go still, “Komaeda-kun, my door is always open if you just need to talk. It’s perfectly fine; I promise.”

_So kind. Headmaster Kirigiri is so kind. Kind, kind, kind._

Thump, _thump_ , **_thump_**.

 _It’s the most I can reasonably expect. It_ helps _, doesn’t it, that he thinks luck is a talent—_

“I can’t be grateful enough towards you, Headmaster Kirigiri.” Komaeda said cheerily, lacing his fingers together and popping the joints. “You’ve been so kind to me. It really makes me happy.”

“It’s really nothing,” the headmaster replied with a light laugh, waving him off. “Komaeda-kun, you don’t need to flatter me. It’s fine.”

“Fine,” he echoed before giggling, “Ehehe. I’m fine, as well. I’ll see you, headmaster.”

“If you say so, Komaeda-kun... But please,” he does pause at the doorway, and Kirigiri’s call is careful. “Do take it easy, alright? If something does happen, don’t hesitate to speak with me.”

Komaeda nodded, smile adoring, and before he could see the headmaster’s expression waver, he turned around and left.

* * *

It all settles down relatively quickly with little trouble, though he doesn’t see much of Satou-san for a while. Nor Sonia, for that matter, although he’s sure she’s fine. Everything’s fine. Satou may have already fully recovered and he just hadn’t yet noticed her. It happens.

He does wonder, but all the same events play out as they usually do. He sits in class, scribbles his assignments, eats, stops by the medical faculties, lies down, and Matsuda is sadly a rare occurrence.  Generally though, he’s still performing those minor delivery tasks for the staff when asked.

On one day that was like any other disappointingly dull day, he’s given a particular task that is a bit...different. Though certainly not in any particularly interesting way.

He accepted the file with a smile as the teacher barely glanced his direction, even as his smile did falter a bit when it was explained where he was supposed to deliver said file. He’s given a description of the recipient, their name, and it’s one of the other researchers, of course, but...

For some reason, that researcher is in the reserve course district. Teaching the students? Except, as far as he knew, the teachers for prep students were simply that: teachers and nothing beyond that. All fitting so neatly into that little sphere along with those mediocre students.

 _Maybe one of the SHSLs accidentally slipped through the cracks?_ That could be the case. A late bloomer SHSL—it sounded probable enough. But was it really practical to utilize resources on something like that?

Ah, well, it’s Hope’s Peak Academy and it’s gotten to be this grandiose because of the reserve course. Humoring those students isn’t too much of an issue, he supposed. Just as long as it didn’t _interfere_.

Of course, it’s none of _his_ business either way, and he just needs to find the researcher to deliver the file. That’s what he thinks as he crosses into the West District of HPA, and despite that, there’s a strange, uncomfortable air to the reserve course area.

The students he walks past are certainly different. Many of them are looking down rather than with the upbeat stride of many elite students. Many are clearly stressed, chattering to their friends about exams and cram school—it’s a familiar sight. He saw this behavior a lot in his old high school, which had been a perfectly fine, serviceable place— _he applied there because it seemed like the kind of school his parents would have liked after all_ —though, of course, it still paled to HPA like a candle to a star.

He hadn’t known about the reserve course at the time it was established what couldn’t have been long ago, but Hope’s Peak Academy stood out ever since he was little. It had _always_ been something unreachably bright.

That in mind, the familiar yet unimpressive normalcy of the students was starting to irritate him, making him quicken his step a bit. After all, shouldn’t they look much more honored and grateful for being here? Even if the experience itself is nothing special, the name this school is granting them should be considered a gift.

He needed to find that researcher quickly.

* * *

At some point, the reserve students started to notice him more and more. He would have paid them no mind, but, unfortunately, he wasn’t having the best of luck finding that researcher. And all teachers he asked—all of which also had bugging eyes once they saw the emblem on his uniform—weren’t providing serviceable answers.

Komaeda was irritated; both by the inconvenience and that it felt hotter in the reserve course building than it should have been.  His good luck would still make up for it, but it was still annoying how tedious this was getting to be.

The sight of the reserve students staring and gossiping became the current state of things. He was used to it, of course. They were like that in previous schools as well—he had been an anomaly even then, being unable to attend classes due to illness at times and yet still getting among the highest marks, he had been contemptible and frustrating for a multitude of reasons. Kids used to wonder if he had been cursed. He wondered as well.

But the gossip here is about his being an elite student and _why was he here, was he kicked out of the main program, is he sight-seeing or something what the hell, no, look at that file, he’s doing grunt work—even **elite students** can do menial tasks, huh?_

Boring. It’s considerably more boring than what he’s used to. He sighs vocally at some point, rubbing his temple, and then something else stands out amongst the muttering,

_“...pisses me off...elite students act so damn superior...”_

_“...some of their talents aren’t even that great and yet everyone bends over backwards to lick their feet—isn’t that infuriating?”_

_“...this guy doesn’t even look that **special**...”_

Instantly, he bursts out laughing. It’s a shock to himself as much as the students, some of them jumping and scattering like startled insects. He just laughs and laughs into the file, shoulders tensing and grip tightening until he heard the telltale crinkling, and Komaeda stopped, sighing, and stood up straight again.

“Where are they, where are they,” he muttered to himself, taking no notice of the students darting to get out of his way and proximity, but still hissing out whispers and murmurs. _Strange, weird, **creep**_ —yes, that was more like before as well. He paid such things no mind. Just kept searching.

His head was starting to spin a bit. He was a bit tired—maybe it’s the dreariness of the reserve students and their building and their teachers—but he was expected back at the main building, right? Headmaster Kirigiri would surely—

_...ah... Come to think of it... In regards to Headmaster Kirigiri... I might be..._

He’s not sure what happened. He wasn’t thinking straight when he felt the shove, and just as he registers what happened, it’s pain after pain spiking through his body as he topples downwards. By the time it’s stopped, he’s sprawled against the wall, shaking and almost certain he had to be bleeding. His head and joints were throbbing, and he feels something damp and warm streaking his face.

He still hears them.

_“Oh, he’s fallen.”_

_“The elite student’s fallen down. How clumsy of him.”_

_“Not so high and mighty now **is he** —”_

_“—he looks so **pathetic** , don’t you think?”_

His blurring gaze flickers upwards to the indistinct dark shapes standing overhead at the top of the stairs. They stare, he thinks, and then they disperse, their steps irregular taps against the tiles. Komaeda can only blink before his vision fails even more, muddling and distorting, and the groan he lets out is a wretched, resounding noise.

_Tediousness followed by terrible bad luck... It’s unexpectedly cruel..._

Ah, no good, he might have gotten blood on the file—surely he’ll be scolded for that—and hadn’t Headmaster Kirigiri told him to be careful from now on? He has yet to remove those bandages and now this. He’ll certainly have to replace them again.

_How unlucky... I wonder if this is going to inconvenience the doctors. I would hope it doesn’t—that it doesn’t matter either way. After all, what difference should a few extra bruises make to something already broken?_

His ears are starting to ring, there’s some high-pitched sound amidst the clopping of feet against tiles, the muttering of students, laughter, and some of them are even bantering he thinks. He’s used to this. It doesn’t bother him as much as it used to. He was nothing worth being bothered over either way. Nothing...

 _“Komaeda-kun,”_ Headmaster Kirigiri’s smile is clear when everything else isn’t, when the world is swirling around into an indistinct mess of colors and shape. _“Your luck really is something else, isn’t it?”_

His luck will surely balance this event out as well. So there’s little to worry about. He’s as reassured as he would be if it were the headmaster smiling at him now, warmly regarding him and overshadowing those cold distant stares of the reserve class. It’s going to be fine. _Fine..._

Headmaster Kirigiri had been so worried about his hand. He’ll worry about these injuries as well. He’ll surely ask about them, ask if he’s really alright, and if, like before where the headmaster had held his bandaged hand in his own warm, worn ones—if he does the same as before, ruffling his hair as he frowns over those wounds, maybe that alone will be enough?

_Headmaster Kirigiri..._

At some point, even that kind, gentle smile is dotted and overcome by blackness.

* * *

“Hey...?! Hey, what happened?! Are you alright?!”

**_..._ **

“...Fuck, this looks so bad... There...There’s so much blood... It’s everywhere...”

**_..._ **

“Urgh... _Ugh_... H-Hold on. I-I got’cha. You’re... You’re lighter than you look...?”

**_..._ **

“Easy, easy! I’m taking you to the nurse. Aw, jeez... Easy does it... _Ugh_...”

**_._.** _._

“It’ll be fine. It shouldn’t take too long. L-Look? We’re almost there?”

_...Who is this?_

“Please just stay with me here...”

_Who are you? Why are you here?_

**_...Bright. It’s too bright—_ **

* * *

It’s far too blindingly bright. It hurts. But it does settle, and somewhere overhead, there’s a voice, “H-Hey...? Hey, _can you hear me_?!”

Loud. Rather high-pitched in its worry—though his own voice surely sounds worse than that, so he can’t be too harsh. Still, Komaeda flinched, eyes opening slowly, head throbbing as he comes to, and that voice goes on, “Don’t push yourself! You really took a fall back there— _urgh_... The nurse bandaged you up and left to get something, but she said to make sure you didn’t...”

The blurry shapes and fuzzy colors are coming together—whoever is looming over him has dark spiky hair, he thinks, and he can’t help but groan. They gasped, jerking back a little before he can fully focus and...

“Hey...” He speaks slower. It’s a boy. With dark brown spiky hair in an unusual style with hazel eyes that bore into him with worry to his core. “Are you alright? What happened? Were you pushed?”

He’s one of _them_ ; a reserve course student as well. But he’s looking at him through the lenses of someone concerned for an injured individual rather than a student envious of another’s supposed success. Komaeda can’t help but wonder if that would change once he realizes. But there’s already some kind of resignation in this person, one that’s sad but not exactly surprised when he asked if the other had been shoved down those stairs.

_...Hm._

“Thank you for worrying, ah...?”

“O-Oh, yeah, uh...” That concerned face colored, a red tinting his cheeks as he averted his gaze and rubbed at the nape of his neck. “Uh. I’m Hinata. Hinata Hajime. I guess we’re not in the same class? Though I could have sworn I would have at least noticed you so...”

“...Hm.”

“N-Not that I’m implying anything!” Hinata hastily tacked on. “No, you’re fine! You’re fine! S-Sorry about that... I didn’t mean...”

Komaeda couldn’t help but giggle, sighing, “It’s fine... Hi _na_ ta-kun.”

It’s a nice name, fitting of a nice person. Hinata even reddens a bit more, and there’s something endearing about it. Though that smile on his face falters when he can’t help but remember Headmaster Kirigiri’s sheepish expression; when he remembers he has things to do other than be entertained by reserve course students.

“So...” Hinata begins awkwardly, still looking away, looking up, in fact, as though the ceiling had all the answers. “So, you’re...”

“Komaeda Nagito.” He gestures to himself and waits for Hinata to look at him. He finally does, and his eyes settle on his hand, directing his hazel gaze to the emblem on his uniform. The brunet’s expression is far too easy to read: his eyes bug with bafflement, several questions clearly going through his brain at once, and he stiffens as though the atmosphere had gone cold. Komaeda smiles all the same. “We’re not in the same class, so I don’t expect you to recognize me.”

“You’re...one of the elites, huh?” he answers at that sluggish pace again, his tone distant as he stares. “I... I hadn’t noticed... Why are you here?”

“Important business,” Komaeda chirped, haughtily and matter-of-factly. “Does that really matter to a reserve course student? Ah, but, I am grateful you came to my aide all the same. That was so kind of you! Shall I put in a good word for Hinata-kun to Headmaster Kirigiri?”

Instantly, that easy to read expression shifts, tightens. “...Don’t patronize me.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean...” he trailed off, seeing the rising anger on Hinata’s kind face, and he drops it immediately, sighing. “ _Goodness_. You don’t have to look at me like that, Hinata-kun. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Were you joking or something? Because that’s not funny.” Hinata huffs; his cheeks are still red as before. Except it’s different from before. “Everyone knows already how much better the elite students are, so you don’t need to remind us.”

“...Do I?” Komaeda asks and he thinks, then, of those voices he had heard when he was sprawled against the floor, looking up those stairs. His eyes narrow. “Unfortunately, you’re wrong about that, Hinata-kun. Some of you reserve students don’t _get_ it.”

Hinata doesn’t say anything. Probably because it’s true. And making excuses would just make him look worse. He made a mistake and he realizes—he’s at least perceptive, this one. Komaeda thinks he might want to keep their relationship civil and he shifts to get out of the bed, saying, “Well, anyway, I need to...”

“Wait!” Hinata stops him suddenly, hands on his shoulders and pushing him back. He’s wide-eyed, as though realizing, “The nurse said you needed to stay lying down until she got back. You... You’re not fully treated. She might even have to call the medical facility of the main part of campus...”

“But I have work to do!!” he whined, and the brunet winced. And then he looked at him rather weirdly, to which Komaeda could only groan. “I _said_ it was important business, remember? I can’t just spend my leisure time here—surely even you can understand the importance of responsibility...”

Hinata’s stare sharpened. “You’re injured. That can wait.”

“It could.” He concedes that much. “But, of course, so could being treated.”

“What—” The brunet’s expression went from serious to seriously exasperated. “What the _hell_ kind of response is that?!”

This time, he can’t help but laugh, muffling his chuckles against his hand and waving Hinata off. “That was a rather childish retort, wasn’t it? Aah, sorry, I couldn’t help myself, Hinata-kun.” Hinata didn’t look too at ease with this response, and Komaeda’s smile barely twitched. “In all seriousness, I pride myself on this school, you see, and little else matters to me.”

“Pride...?” Hinata falters, and averts his gaze awkwardly. “Well, being enrolled in HPA is something to be proud about, isn’t it?”

“You understand! That’s wonderful, Hinata-kun! It should be obvious, but even my dear classmates have trouble understanding me...” His eyes are bright as he beams. But he’s still being regarded rather uneasily, and that is a bit sobering, even if it’s just a reserve student—though he rather likes this reserve student far more than the others.

Hinata’s very kind. There’s almost a comforting sort of familiarity to him that’s rather strange.

_It almost makes him all the more disappointing._

“Of _course_ , there’s more to it than just pride... Elite students almost have a duty. The world is practically in their hands. Perhaps that responsibility is what some have trouble swallowing, but,” _Headmaster Kirigiri still believed in all of them_ , even _worthless otherwise talentless nobodies like himself_. Headmaster Kirigiri was still _working_ towards that ideal, even having to work within the world’s imperfect system to further feasibly bring it to fruition. Regretful, but Komaeda hardly resents anyone for it. “Well, it can’t be helped. In the very least, flowers bloom all the more beautifully in adversary.”

Hinata’s expression twists uncomfortably, and the cheesiness of that line probably didn’t help his already poor mood. It’s a shame, one Komaeda does apologize for with a sad smile on his face.

“Sorry, Hinata-kun, this doesn’t really apply so you so I’m just wasting breath, aren’t I?” _I’ve been so excited lately that I can’t stop prattling. I really need to reel myself in a bit more... To think I can’t even control myself around a reserve student... **Shameful**... _ “You wouldn’t understand it either way, but in the very least, reserve students have it easier.”

“That...doesn’t make me feel better, actually.” Sighing heavily, the reserve student ran his fingers through those chestnut spikes, looking more like he was being weighed down than at any sort of ease. Komaeda frowned as he went on, “Look. I’m not even here to have this conversation in the first place.”

“As I said, you don’t need to worry about such things—I already apologized, so... A- _Ah_!” The sting was sudden, dizzying enough that he wondered if it came from overworking his brain to this point. All the same, he curled in on himself, head in his hands, fingers digging into his hair and feeling like his vision was swimming and swirling in a painful whirl. “O- _Ooh_... **_Ow_**...”

He only barely registered someone pushing him back, lying him back onto the pillow, vision blurring as a voice droned overhead, “ _This_ is why the nurse said to rest. You should have listened to me.”

“Hinata- _kun_...” His own voice came out as a pitiful whine. “The file—I need... I wasted so much time already...”

“Well, it’s unfortunate.” Hinata only deadpans. “You can’t exactly move around in this state.”

Despite himself he can’t help but giggle, however strained it ends up being, however disgustingly raspy his voice is. It hurts, too.

But through his fuzzy sight, Hinata looks sad rather than scornful. He also sighs, “It’s been long enough that the nurse should be here soon, so you needn’t worry, I guess. You should just take it easy for now.”

“My teacher’s going to be so disappointed though,” Komaeda responds, sniffling and wiping off his forehead with the knuckles of his fingers. “A _ah_ , I’m just going to be all the more agitated the longer this takes.”

“...um...” Hinata sucks in his breath, shifting his gaze. Komaeda follows it drearily and notes that he’s staring at the actual file which had been placed on the nurse’s desk. Komaeda wondered if his blood really was staining it and wrinkled his nose in disgust at the idea. “Who’s that file for, anyway?”

“Mm... Fuku...moto-san, I think? Or Fukumoto-sensei? I think that’s the name. But... I’m kinda dizzy...” His head was still throbbing too, and this particular pang was almost an irritating reminder. Rubbing at his temples did little to subside it, sadly. “Fukumoto... Yes, actually, that is about right.”

“I know who that is.” Hinata backed away, straightening his posture and taking the file from the desk with a quick swipe. “If I take this file to them, then that will be that, right? I can do this much if you’re so concerned about it.”

“Eh? How does Hinata-kun...?” Komaeda blinked at him dully. Then, as though the offer finally registered, a smile pulled at his lips. “That’s so kind of you; I’m sincerely grateful, Hinata-kun. But I am curious as to how you’d know Fukumoto-san.”

“I...ran into them a couple times. It’s nothing noteworthy.” Still, the brunet was rather on edge as he stared at the file in his hands. The stain, maybe? Eventually, he cleared his throat, heading to the door. “Well, I’ll get going. You just...rest, whatever. After that you can leave... You probably don’t understand but an elite student being here...just makes things difficult on us.”

_What a thing to say..._

“M _m_... Wait, Hinata-kun,” Hinata does wait, lingering by the doorway and Komaeda calls out, “As grateful as I am, I’m actually rather sad you’re leaving. There was a rather nice chemistry between us, you know? Ehe, though you’re still just a reserve student...”

_But it’s not like I’m much better. The only difference is what Headmaster Kirigiri thinks of me. Still..._

“Just rest, Komaeda.” Hinata sounded so tired and left without another word, leaving him alone and bundled up in those bedsheets.

Komaeda stared at that empty doorway for a while before with the last bit of his energy, he reached out and pulled the curtain closed around that bed. And he waited, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh escaping his lips.

_It’s really strange. It’s almost as if meeting Hinata-kun was my good luck making up for that fall. What a sense of humor my luck has, if that’s truly the case..._

But he can’t say he regrets it that much. In the very least, there was surely more to come afterwards than just that.


	7. Passing Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... Wow. It's... It's been a while huh like... Over...two...and a half years.
> 
> This chapter has actually been done for quite a while but for some reason I've been putting off posting it, ahaha... Haha...
> 
> Okay. Um, look. I've actually been thinking about this fic and wondering if I'm really going to keep on going as initially planned or if I'm going to re-tool it completely into like, a completely different thing. Since it's still in the budding stages, I do feel like I could manage that but... I do wonder. I guess if I do end up continuing it further, we'll be seeing then, but...
> 
> I should go ahead and say that, uh, things are...going to be a lot more chaste than I planned, probably. I hate making promises because I'm super flaky, but I don't think the Jin/Komaeda ship is going to be sexual after all.
> 
> It's still going to be very unhealthy and abusive by nature of their age difference and power imbalance, but I might keep the relationship emotional rather than physical. Maybe. That's what I think, anyway.
> 
> And, oh, yeah, there's the elephant in the room involving dr3 since this fic contradicts it. Uh... Obviously I'm not going to be following dr3 canon nor even vaguely try to. At, like, all. As for including dr3 characters...
> 
> I like Kizakura and Miaya, so we might be seeing them in the future.
> 
> Nanami more like /Nah/nami.

Hinata’s sighing upwards, at the sunlight filtering through the tree he was taking refuge under, an open textbook in his lap. A highlighter was also poised in his hand, the yellow of the ink of certain passages standing out against the white of the pages. Aside from looking more fatigued than usual, it’s not that strange of a sight.

Another normal thing.

He really can’t expect much else from the reserve course branch. He can’t expect much at all. He only approaches because it’s Hinata and he really needs to know...

“You did deliver the file, right? You’re not procrastinating on my very important responsibility that I trusted you with?”

Hinata nearly jumped, startled, before quickly jerking towards him. Komaeda had his arms folded, lips pulled into a frown with a narrowed stare. Several things flickered across Hinata’s expression in response—surprise, then dread, then exasperation and finally frustration. “Yes, I did. You’re walking out with the nurse’s permission, right? You didn’t just make a run for it when her back was turned?”

“If I did, would you try to stop me?” He asked straight-facedly, and Hinata rolled his eyes, shrugging. Breaking face, Komaeda giggled into his hand. “I’m fine enough to walk. But I’m still going to check up with the doctors in the main medical facilities. Really, aside from my ears ringing and my jaw hurting, I feel great.”

Hinata didn’t miss a beat. “You shouldn’t talk a lot if your jaw hurts then.”

“It doesn’t bother me; I wouldn’t worry about it either way.” That look on Hinata’s face soured, even as Komaeda’s smile widened. “I wanted to check up on you before I left in case you still had the file. I’m glad that you delivered it, Hinata-kun. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” His head shakes, unease twitching at his lips, the same emotion flickering in those dulled hazels. Hinata wasn’t really looking at him anymore, and as understandable as it was, something about it came across as...troubling.

He shouldn’t be too concerned about that. It’d be silly— _Hinata-kun’s_ just a reserve course student, albeit unexpectedly pleasant even like this. He’s also a kind person. He’s _nice_. Komaeda appreciates that.

“Shouldn’t you...” Hinata looked at him quickly, warily, with a bit of a grimace. “Shouldn’t you be on your way, Komaeda? There’s nothing else for an elite student to do here.”

“Eh?” Komaeda cocked his head to the side, eyes wide and voice a little high. “But _Hinata-kun’s_ here and I wanted to talk to Hinata-kun for a little bit longer.”

Hinata flinched almost like he’d been hit, eyes bulging and face tinting that brilliant red. He looks like he’s at a loss and it’s amusing. Endearing. For a reserve course student. Of course.

Even though his presence was already preferable by him knowing his place. And being kind, which Komaeda appreciates.

“I...” Hinata chokes a bit and then, faltering in a way that wasn’t so amusing, bit out, “ _Why_? Why would someone like you _care_ about talking to me outside of just making sure I did what I said I’d do?”

“Someone like me?” Komaeda repeated, blinking a bit before chuckling on impulse, smile slipping easily across his face. “Well, I guess that _is_ rather strange, isn’t it? Then again, I’m a rather strange person. Not a significant kind of strange, mind you, but...”

Absentmindedly, he reached into his uniform pocket, playing with before pulling out a bottle of pills, jiggling it to hear them rattle as he hummed, “I seem to be experiencing a lot of significantly strange things lately. I almost don’t know how to handle it.”

“I don’t really get what you’re saying and,” Hinata sighed, heavily and haggardly. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t answer my question.”

_The reason for that is pretty simple._ “I don’t expect a person like Hinata-kun, who is normal in every sense of the word, to understand.”

“Then why bother _saying_ it?”

“Hmm,” even as Hinata seemed to get more irritated, Komaeda was as nonchalant as ever. “Lack of filter, I guess? Sometimes when I get in the mood, I can’t stop talking. It’s a rather embarrassing habit but a difficult one to rein in as well. Ah, but, Hinata-kun can understand _that_ much, right?”

“Yeah.” Hinata did eye him a bit suspiciously, the agreement begrudging. Then, softer, curiously, he asked, “That bottle was from the nurse, wasn’t it?”

“They’re painkillers in case I have any headaches afterwards.” Komaeda explained, shaking the bottle a bit more. “But I can’t use them. This brand of medication doesn’t mix very well with radiotherapy, you see... Nor a lot of my other medication for that matter...”

“... _Radiotherapy_?!” Hinata blanched, almost choking. “ ** _Other_** medication?!”

“...Mm...” Komaeda interested himself with rattling the pills more. “I said the pain wasn’t too bad but the nurse insisted. And admittedly, I wasn’t in the mood to tell her that I couldn’t even take what she brought. But now I have another bottle of pills to dump and, honestly, it’s not that stimulating of a pastime. And it’s such a _waste_ of her insistent consideration, you know?”

“I wouldn’t...know about stuff like that...”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” He can’t expect anything less. As he peered back at Hinata’s expression past that bottle, he sees that Hinata isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking down at nothing in particular, troubled and...

Oh, that’s _guilt_ , isn’t it? _Why_? What is there to feel _guilty_ for?

Then again, it shouldn’t be his concern. Hinata shouldn’t be so concerned either.

It’s likely that Hinata’s just too kind. He’s starting to realize he should dismiss that trait more than he does. He should have dismissed Hinata a lot sooner. He had. But he hadn’t, not really.

“Hinata-kun, here,” he says and he tosses the pill towards him. Though immediately off-guard and surprising him at first, Hinata does respond quick enough to catch the bottle, which was mildly impressive. “Nice reflexes.”

“Hey, Komaeda...” Hinata starts, clearly questioning and wondering.

“It’s a generic brand, so I think it’d suit you better anyway,” Komaeda explains, cheerily with a wave of his hand. “After all, students all the time get headaches from pressure and stress. And Hinata-kun is no exception to that, right? You probably have a headache right now, I bet.”

“That’s... That’s none of your—”

“So I was thinking, rather than dump it down the drain, I’ll dump it on Hinata-kun as thanks!” Brightly, still so cheerfully, even as Hinata stared at him more and more, sputtering as he grinned widely. “It’s the least I can do, and you can use it right away since you had to deal with me...”

“W...Wait a minute...” Hinata was still stammering. “Komaeda, hold on...”

“What’s wrong?” Komaeda asked. “Is that an unacceptable gift? Then, Hinata-kun _doesn’t_ have troubles as a student after all?”

Hinata immediately went dead silent, and while clenching his hand around the bottle, his eyes flickered from it to the book still in his lap. For what felt like a while, the silence dragged. Komaeda’s frown deepened, dismayed.

“Hinata-kun, if you don’t want it...”

“It’s...fine. Thank you.” Slow. Stilted. Clearly cumbersome with the slightest of tremors running through his shoulders. Hinata does laugh a bit, and it’s a bitter, bitter sound. “Thanks. I guess. You really should get going, though—go get some medication that’ll _actually_ help you.”

“Right...” Komaeda agreed, albeit awkwardly. “Well, Hinata-kun, I’ll be...”

It’s then he noticed Hinata glancing off, and when he looked at well, he saw some gossiping students. They quickly rushed off and when his gaze returned to Hinata, he saw again, much clearer and blatant, the very image of fatigue. Hinata did notice, forcing a painful smile that didn’t come close to reaching his eyes, and Komaeda found his mind drawing a blank. Even though...

_It shouldn’t concern me. This really shouldn’t concern me._

He smiled back, bright and calm. “Well, I _should_ get going. Hinata-kun, I’ll see you later and,” he quickly bowed at the proper angle. “Thank you again for your assistance. I’ll do my best not to forget.”

“That’s unnecessary,” Hinata said, and it might have sounded a little deader than it should have. “It was really nothing. I’ll...probably see you, Komaeda.”

“It’s actually unlikely unless I return here, but you never know!” Komaeda chirped in return, straightening himself back up. “Hinata-kun, best wishes and regards all the same.”

“You...too.”

It wasn’t particularly encouraging—the opposite, really, coming out so painfully _glumly_ —but Komaeda accepted it with a wide smile all the same and went on his way. And not once did he dare look back even after crossing that boundary between the main part of campus and the reserve course district. And, honestly, he didn’t really want to look back either. He had no desire to whatsoever.

* * *

It’s easy to say that everything went back to normal after all that but the truth was that it...felt a little gloomier, lately. Troubled, perhaps, most likely due to what had happened with Satou. Come to think of it—why did that happen, anyway?

It was clear not much if anyone knew. He did overhear Sonia talking to others about it, hoping to learn more about what happened, but she hadn’t been very fortunate in that would-be investigation. Ultimately, he heard some of the researchers urged her to drop the matter—they and Headmaster Kirigiri would take care of it.

Komaeda trusts Headmaster Kirigiri. It’s likely he does know the one responsible. There’s no reason for him not to; researchers are strict when it comes to tailing the talented. But the information was tightly under wraps and it’s difficult to prod.

Not just for Sonia but for him as well. He’d been eyeing every student with a talent he knew would likely involve them handling firearms in some way and it was still so very difficult to narrow down on anyone in particular. And given that a good chunk of those students wasn’t in his class, he couldn’t even make a guess based on absences. That and it was more difficult to observe them closely—

Ah, but he couldn’t even observe them closely under calmer circumstances, could he? What a shame.

He shouldn’t worry about it. But he’s so hopelessly _curious_. But it’s none of his business—but... But...

_Wouldn’t this behavior trouble Headmaster Kirigiri? Maybe I shouldn’t, after all._

Still, he wondered. His mind always flickered about tirelessly when given a mysterious situation he wasn’t yet able to fully explain. Almost like his finicky fingers—always picking and picking at his scabs until they bleed.

He really wanted to pick at his food today. He needed to find a place to sit. But the students were more spread out today in the cafeteria. He could always eat at his seat back in the classroom except—he rather liked it here. It’d be unfortunate if he had to eat elsewhere but he wouldn’t dare sit down with...

“Yoo-hooooo!! Nagito-chaaaaan!!”

Komaeda nearly flinched, turning in the direction of Mioda’s voice to see the herself cheerily waving him over to her table. Even in a room where everyone was bustling with conversation, Mioda’s loud voice carried like he imagined it would on stage.

“Nagito-chan, over here, over here!! Come on, come on, come on!!” Mioda was practically bouncing on her heels, her hand waving more fervently. It could have been his imagination, but were people quietening to pay attention to this? To someone like her calling out someone like him?

_Ridiculous... Ridiculous, ridiculous, ridiculous... She’s acting like we’re friends..._

He practically rushed towards her so that she wouldn’t draw anymore eyes or ears. But he still felt stares and his face felt hot, his mind almost spinning as he forced a wide smile.

“Mioda-san,” he spoke quickly, almost in one breath and kept his food as steady as he could manage as he bowed. “Ah, um... Was there something you needed? I-I’m sorry, I don’t really know why you would...”

“Sit down, Nagito-chan!” Mioda chirped and he immediately did so on impulse, shallowing. She flashed him one of her much brighter, much sincerer wide Cheshire cat-like grins. “You were looking so lost, ya know! So cute! Ibuki can’t resist cute!!”

“Ha...ha... You’re really funny, Mioda-san...” Even though he really doesn’t feel like laughing. Instead he looks at who else is sitting with them. Tsumiki doesn’t meet his gaze as it sweeps over her though she does manage the meekest of smiles anyway. He returns the gesture with a nod, but that just makes her hide her face, to his dismay. Pekoyama was sipping calmly, elegantly, but acknowledged him with a polite nod. And...

That was it. It was just these two with two empty seats to his right. Right... That’s _right_. Koizumi and Satou usually sat at Mioda’s table, didn’t they? But, so did Saionji as well...

“The table does feel emptier, doesn’t it?” Mioda whines, her mood dropping instantly and making him flinch. “Mahiru-chan is visiting Yumi-chan with their lunches, of course. And she wouldn’t let everyone else come with!! Kept saying it’d make Yumi-chan suffocate! Hiyoko-chan—actually, I have noooo clue where Hiyoko-chan is...”

“Saionji-san hates being around me s-so I understand her not being here when Koizumi-san isn’t...” Tsumiki sniffles, rubbing at her eyes, giggling a bit hysterically. “I-I understand... I-I c-completely _understaaand_...”

“It’s understandable,” Pekoyama cuts in. “And to be expected anyway. At least Satou is expected to make a quick recovery.”

“Ooh, Peko-chan, you’re so cool...” Mioda’s eyes were starry, practically sparkling. “Can Ibuki kiss you?”

“No, Mioda. Shouldn’t you focus more on making Komaeda comfortable?”

Komaeda can’t help but stammer, “T-There’s really no need—!”

“Peko-chan’s right as usual!!” she exclaimed before he could finish, turning to him with that radiance that made his eyes hurt. “Nagito-chan, we know so little about you!! You’re usually all, like, wallflower-y, and that’s no good! Come on, open up for us a little more—boom!!”

“Don’t you mean bloom?” he wondered, far too quietly. He also spoke too soon because, Mioda did go onto, in fact, imitate an actual explosion, pressing her hands into her cheeks before waving them away. Komaeda muffled an instinctive laugh. “Ah... _Ahhh_ , well... I appreciate your kindness a lot, Mioda-san but there’s...not much to say... I’m not talented like the rest of you after all... Nor am I particularly active...or even worth acknowledgement in other ways.”

“Ibuki will be the judge of that!!” She nodded sagely. “Everyone has spirit at least, Nagito-chan. Don’t you have a wild side other than your hair?! In fact, your hair! Guys sporting that kind of do have to have some daaaark secrets!”

“I just don’t...tame it.”

“As Ibuki thought! An untamed wild side! How scandalous!” Mioda was now much too close, gaze much too serious and fixated on his own. “You’re not one of those guys who goes around killing neighborhood animals and pets, are you?!”

“Do I really give off that kind of impression, Mioda-san?” he asks in slight exasperation, though keeping his smile. “I swear it’s not my intention.”

“Ibuki was throwing a guess out there. It happens when it goes into left field.” _Doesn’t she mean out?_ “Maybe—Nagito-chan is really kinky in bed? It’s always the quiet ones so...”

“Like I said, Mioda-san,” he cuts her off before she can continue, unable to help himself from chuckling wryly. “There’s nothing about me that warrants acknowledgement.”

Mioda mercifully pulls away, visibly deflated. “Really nothing at all? Jeez, Nagito-chan, that’s so _depressing_.”

“It can’t be helped.” To his relief, it’s easier this way, in spite of how troubling it was that cheery, chipper Mioda now looked so upset. “I’m sorry, Mioda-san.”

Her cheeks puffed, making a groan through her throat.

“Nagito-chan, for some reason it’s hard for Ibuki to believe you.”

“I’m sorry, Mioda-san,” he repeats because the words don’t really register. It’s all he’s good for really—that someone like him could frustrate even the carefree Mioda is just what one can expect, right? He really does feel bad—especially since Mioda must now regret inviting him to fill one of her friend’s empty seats. He should leave before the situation gets more taxing on poor Mioda-san. Tsumiki-san looks rather uncomfortable too and Pekoyama-san—well, he can’t really read Pekoyama-san... Come to think of it, it is really quite difficult to guess what Pekoyama-san was thinking the majority of the time.

She always had such a guarded expression, and in a way, she reminded him of Matsuda. But was this really the time to be thinking about that? Especially when Mioda was still staring at him and he was finding it difficult to meet her gaze? Especially when he could _tell_ Mioda’s stare was narrowing, her brow scrunching into an unpleasantly jagged line on her normally bright face?

“...ehe...” The unpleasant sound came unbidden from his lips, light and easy even as he covered his mouth to muffle it. Mioda’s eyes flew comically wide and he couldn’t help but wheeze from behind his hand, scratchy and far too high-pitched. “Ehehehe! Hee... hiii...”

He choked, forcing himself to cough as he rubbed harshly at his throat. His hand still stung.

“I...” He’s not sure why, but forcing himself back into a normal speaking tone felt so...awkward? Off? “I... I’m sorry, Mioda-san...?”

Huh. It’s almost like even whatever he was good for was disintegrating a little bit at a time. He muffled another giggle. Funny, that. _Hilarious_.

Irritation grated on him at the same time Mioda’s voice grated on his ears—“Hey, Nagito- _chan_ ,”

“I’m sorry, Mioda-san.” Like a broken record, scratchy and cracking, he stood as he spoke, gathering his tray up to dump all the food he didn’t want to try and stomach. “I think I need to go. I’m...”

His head started hurting, and on instinct, his fingers when to rub against his temple. “I’m not really feeling well. And as much as I’d selfishly love to keep talking to you, I should get going. I mean, well, I’m already becoming rather unpleasant anyway, so I’d rather not force you to keep tolerating me, Mioda-san.”

“What exactly is Nagito-chan saying?” Mioda blinked those wide eyes at him a few times before brightening up. “Those sound like song lyrics!! Can you repeat them again so that Ibuki can write them down?!”

“You shouldn’t force yourself either, Mioda-san.” Just as easily as it came, that brightness faltered. His smile twitched just a bit. “I’ll see you later, Mioda-san. Truly, I’m terribly sorry.”

“Nagito-chan, you apologize so much.” Pulling her lips into a frown, Mioda sighed. “You might break Mikan-chan’s record.”

He couldn’t say anything to that. Tsumiki, he noticed, flinched and fumbled with her skirt under the table. She looked deeply ashamed. He understood that feeling painfully well and it irritated him— _shouldn’t **elite** students be above such silly things_—

“Anyway, Nagito-chan’s being silly,” Mioda went on matter-of-factly. “Ibuki invited Nagito-chan, remember? If Nagito-chan was really so bad, you’d be uninvited! Simple! I mean, sure Nagito-chan is a bit on the weird side, but weird as an in-style! So! You... You don’t really have to leave...”

“Actually,” It’s rather surprising that Tsumiki picked that moment to speak up. “I-If Komaeda-san isn’t feeling well, it would be for the best that he rests, Mioda-san. Besides...” An odd look came over her normally shy, frail face. “You’re injured, aren’t you, Komaeda-san?”

“Oh, Mikan-chan... You mean Nagito-chan’s hand, right?” Mioda asks, but with the way Tsumiki was looking at him, eyes sharply fixed at some point above his own, he instantly knew that wasn’t the case.

_As expected._ A smile sprung across his face, genuine and wide. _Of SHSL._

“Komaeda-san, I...” She does falter, but just for a bit—she overcomes it so quickly—and gathers up her tray. She stumbles a bit, skirt fluttering up—he doesn’t care to look even as Mioda whistles—but she quickly regains her footing. “L-Let me...help you back? I-It’s the least I can do...”

“Of course, if Tsumiki-san insists,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “I really, truly appreciate your care. It’s more than I could ever ask for.”

“Oh.” Mioda says before Tsumiki could. Then she repeats, louder, as though realizing something. “Oh! Oh, I see now!” Looking between the two quickly, she gives Komaeda the widest, widest grin. “Nagito-chan, you’re _embarrassed_ , aren’t ya? Okay, okay! Ibuki _understands_!”

“You understand?” Komaeda asks, smile twitching. He feels like he should be relieved but—something tells him this is about something else. “Why, whatever do you mean?”

“Mikan-chan, take good care of him!” Mioda chirps cheerfully, snickering as she does. “Nurses take very good care of others, don’t they?”

“O-Oh, yes, they do,” Tsumiki nods, thankfully oblivious. “I-I won’t be too long, hopefully. I-If you want me back, that is! I-I mean, if you want me gone...!”

“Be careful, both of you,” Pekoyama cuts in quickly, with a firm nod for each of them. “You can take your time returning, Tsumiki—in case something happens.”

“Y-Yes!” Tsumiki nodded, more like bowed, furiously enough that she almost banged her head against the table. Komaeda flinched, Mioda giggled. But almost instantly, Tsumiki had rushed to his side and tugged at his sleeve. “L-Let’s, ah, go, Komaeda-san. Do you want to lay down somewhere? The nurse’s office is close by—b-but it might be occupied, considering the time! I-I’m sorry, maybe your room...? I-I mean...!”

“Room’s fine, Tsumiki-san.”

Tsumiki nods a few more times.

“Mioda-san, Pekoyama-san,” he says, looking past her and smiling at the both of them. “See you later, perhaps?”

Ibuki grinned cheekily as she waved. Pekoyama, in comparison, was calmer and cooler about wishing them off one last time. Tsumiki bowed for them again, nearly deeply enough that her skirt pulled upwards, and Komaeda politely averted his stare.

It takes a while for either of them to step away—they both waited for the other’s lead; something that made Mioda giggle. Tsumiki, somehow, stumbled forward and would have fallen on her face had Komaeda not tugged her back by her sleeve. Between sniffles and tearful apologies mixed with words of gratitude, Komaeda just went on ahead after all with her trailing behind.

* * *

“S-So, what happened? If you don’t mind me answering! Y-You don’t have to! I-I’m so sorry for being nosy, Komaeda-san—!”

“I was pushed down the stairs.”

“Eh?! That’s terrible!! But...” Tsumiki trailed off uncertainly, fiddling with her fingers as she did. “Y-You... Your injuries seem...minor. Your hair seems to hide most of the bandage anyway. It’s, ah, not a surprise Mioda-san didn’t notice... Pekoyama-san might have but she...doesn’t really say much...”

“Well,” he says with a laugh. “A bug like me is hardly worth Pekoyama-san’s notice. I don’t even deserve yours, Tsumiki-san.”

“ _Eh_?! B-But that’s part of my responsibility as a member of the health committee!” Tsumiki pointed out, flustered and teary. “Are you saying even with _that_ it’s too unpleasant?! Please, forgive me and let me take care of you! I-If I’m barred from _that_ , what am I good for?!”

“Oh, Tsumiki-san, that’s not what I...”

Tsumiki was sobbing, hard and heavily into her hands, but still pressed up against him as she did. She was dangerously close to knocking him over, and Komaeda positively struggled in defusing the situation.

“You misunderstand, Tsumiki-san!” He tried raising his voice, as loud as he could as he felt his head spinning. “What I... I meant was...! Someone like me...who’s so clearly below someone like you...”

Tsumiki flinched, and her fingers dug into his sleeve, hard enough to hurt and make the fabric bleed.

“Someone like you...?”

“Ah, yes, someone like me...” Komaeda goes on, feeling his headache worsen. “See, compared to Tsumiki-san, who’s talented and full of hope, I’m...clearly little more than a speck of dust on a grand painting, you see. If not for the insistence and kindness of... Headmaster Kirigiri... _Nn_... I wouldn’t even be here...”

_Headmaster Kirigiri... Headmaster..._

“K-Komaeda-san...?”

Ah, when had he felt _this_ unbalanced?

“S-Steady yourself, Komaeda-san!” Tsumiki wailed, all teary and high-pitched and he couldn’t help but flinch.

“Ah... Right... I’m here because Headmaster Kirigiri... No other...reason...” He kept on mumbling as Tsumiki began tugging him along with a hitched sob. He leaned against her, but he didn’t stop talking. “He’s so kind to me, you know, someone like me—he thinks, he thinks I’m important. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since someone felt I was _important_?”

“U-Um...” Tsumiki stammered a few times and she wasn’t looking at him. “I-I don’t... J-Just hang in there, please, Komaeda-san...”

“Oh, it’s been longer than I can _remember_!” he gasped, stumbling. Tsumiki yelped, but somehow, she kept him from tumbling and taking them both down. And yet, he kept babbling. “I still can hardly believe it! I still feel like I’m dreaming! I—I never even imagined I’d be important to someone ever again! _Me_! A worthless, wretched nobody who—who always causes so much...trouble...”

The words are starting to slur. Tsumiki pushes harder to support him, and he groans.

“Tsumiki-san... I’m worthless, aren’t I? I’m just the worst, right? Hey, hey... I’m really sorry for relying on you so much but I can’t die, you see, because... Because Headmaster Kirigiri thinks I’m important...”

“I-I wouldn’t have let you die anyway, Komaeda-san!!” she practically exclaimed.

He can’t help but laugh.

“How kind... Tsumiki-san is kind, too...”

“K-Komaeda-san...” She sounds like she’s beginning to weep as she’s close to outright dragging him. “W-We’re... We’re almost to where your dorm, r-right? I-It’s this door coming up, isn’t it?”

Head throbbing, he raised his eyes with a wince, taking in one of the numbered doors they passed. He recognized it, and he nods.

“Mm, yeah, here we are... Thank you so much for your assistance, Tsumiki-san...”

He had to unlock the door, of course, but he managed that much even with his hand oh so slightly trembling. He gripped his key tightly so that it wouldn’t slip out of his clammy grip, and pocketed as Tsumiki helped him inside. She’s cooing at him almost desperately, shaking all over and—it’s strange. He can’t help but think she’s like this for reasons outside of worry.

_I really am...so worthless..._

Before he knows it, she’s seated him down, smoothed down his uniform—a little too close for comfort, really, was it appropriate for Tsumiki to press so _close?_ Still, still-still- _still_ , he mustn’t be ungrateful—and totters into his bathroom to retrieve pills. She makes a strangled sound of alarm, but before Komaeda can respond, she _wails_.

“I-I’m _soooooorry_!!!”

He blinks once, twice.

“Eh... Tsumiki-san... Don’t...worry about it?”

She scampers back, wiping tears from her eyes with bandaged fingers, gripping a cup of water in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. She hands him the former, opening the bottle and handing him one of the pills. He downs it with the water.

Tsumiki sniffled, rubbing more at her eyes.

_Aah, what have I done?_

“I really am sorry, Tsumiki-san,” he apologized more fervently. “I’ve caused so much trouble. I’m sorry. You really are incredible; my useless self would have collapsed by now if not for your support.”

Tsumiki stilled, blinking up at him with wide, almost expectant eyes. And then, she giggled softly.

“D-Don’t _meeeeen_ tion it, Komaeda-san! Ehehe, I was only doing what I can to _heeeeelp_.”

“Ah, yes,” he agreed, smile a little strained. “Of course you were.”

She nodded eagerly and then recoiled without warning with a look of horror. “O-Oh no! I just started laughing without asking for permission!” And just like that, she was back to crying. “Waaaah, forgive meeeee!! Hic, hic.”

_I...really am worthless..._

“Er... There, there, Tsumiki-san. I forgive you. Well. Someone like you shouldn’t even be _asking_ someone like me for forgiveness.”

Tsumiki flinched at that, looking absolutely stricken. Hurriedly, he had to backpedal.

“W-Wait, no, please don’t take what I said the wrong...!”

**_“WAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!”_ **

* * *

He only got Tsumiki to stop crying when she remembered to fuss over him. It was humiliating, but... He could deal with that since it was for Tsumiki’s sake. For her to flourish with hope. She really was good at nursing. She’d be an incredible doctor someday.

_...A doctor..._

He thought, of course, of Matsuda, and fretted a bit at the thought.

_Hopefully he wouldn’t be too harsh with her. That’s just how Matsuda-kun is, and he’s certainly not a bad person, but... I do...worry. But, ahhh, I should be more excited! The thought of Matsuda-kun and Tsumiki-san working together, combining their hope is just—beautiful!!_

Aha, or something like that.

Tsumiki left him after a while, but she swore up and down she’d check up on him later. Or, at least, he could’ve sworn she did. He was already drifting by that point, and was fast asleep before she left.

He slept quietly and dreamt of Headmaster Kirigiri. Headmaster Kirigiri’s gentle laugh, gentle hands, gentler smile.

_...Headmaster..._

Headmaster Kirigiri’s smile was serene, and then, the edges grew darker, murkier, making Komaeda’s face pinch up as he squirmed.

“M-Mm... Mmm... Ma... Headmas...”

He breathed in heavily, feeling those previously calm images ripple. Like the surface of water. Water. Drowning. He thought of drowning, of water filling his lungs, sinking him down, and then, and then—

The shadowy figure with long fingers reaching out towards him just as he was about to pass out.

“Hey dumbass, wake up.”

Komaeda yelped as his forehead was flicked none too lightly. His eyes flew open, and his body felt...warm.

“Ah... Oh...” he sighed, face flushed. “A...fever... A fever...”

“At least getting sicker hasn’t made you stupider, but I guess that’s just your dementia taking its sweet-ass time.” A cool, wet washcloth was carefully folded onto his forehead. Komaeda shuddered, and the other clicked their tongue. “Maybe I spoke too soon. You haven’t even acknowledged me, idiot.”

Komaeda’s eyelashes fluttered as he drearily turned to them. His head pounding, eyes stinging; it was difficult to focus.

It still was pretty clear who it was, so even a stupid person like himself could figure it out.

“Ma... Matsuda-kun...?”

Matsuda waved at him, unimpressed.

“You’re quite the troublemaker, huh,” Matsuda droned. “Shitty personality, shitty looks, shit-starter. The Shit Society will be most pleased.”

Komaeda sneezed.

“...Ah, what... What are you...?”

“Babysitting,” Matsuda said snippily. “It’s my new job. Because Headmaster Kirigiri requested it. Your blanket’s already gross from the sweat it soaked in so control yourself, alright?”

“Requested it... Headmaster Kirigiri did...?”

Matsuda flicked his forehead, but because of the washcloth, he couldn’t feel it. Still, he flinched.

“Since you’re a dementia patient, I guess it makes sense,” Matsuda sighed, leaning back in his—really Komaeda’s chair with a careless roll of his eyes. “They gave me your papers. Woof. I’ve got my work cut out for me. Figuratively. Literally once I actually open your head up to look at it.”

_This...still doesn’t make any sense..._

Komaeda blinked a few times.

_Is this...good luck from getting sick...? I don’t...understand... This is too much..._

“That health committee member, though...” Matsuda trailed off. “I don’t like her.”

_This is far, far too much..._

“She just... Whoa, hey. _Hey_ , are you falling asleep while I’m talking? That’s fucking rude.”

Komaeda’s head lolled over, eyes falling.

“Ah... Hah...”

“Well, it can’t be helped,” Matsuda was saying. “Just rest up, alright, Komaeda? I’ll handle it from here. I have to.”

“Mmm...”

He fell asleep soon after that as Matsuda very carefully brushed sweat-slick fringe from his brow.


End file.
